


Watch Out Below

by theimaginesyouneveraskedfor



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Series, here ya go, repost from tumblr, typical reader in a strange land, y'all want cheesy fanfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-07-12 15:07:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 33
Words: 52,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15997760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theimaginesyouneveraskedfor/pseuds/theimaginesyouneveraskedfor
Summary: The reader falls of a cliff while hiking only to land a top a dwarf in a foreign land.





	1. I've Fallen and I Can't Get Up

It had been too long since you had gone hiking and you were glad to be back in the outdoors; even if the air was rather brisk and the ground mucky with slick mud. You had debated with yourself endlessly about doing so alone, but no one had the time nor the motivation to accompany you on your trek. Perhaps it was for the best; you could use a little alone time. Besides, what was the worst that could happen in a few hours…out in the wild.

Well, your mind was getting away from you and you did the best to rein in your ridiculous paranoia. You tightened your pony tail once more as you climbed the steep decline, littered with wet leaves and thick pine cones. The fir needles emitted a musky scent with your every step and you inhaled deeply through your already hurried breath. You were getting out of shape and you well knew it; especially as you climbed the tumultuous hill.

You reached the top at last and dragged your feet across the bumpy ground, nearing the edge of the drop-off ahead. You bent over as you stood only inches from the edge and tried to catch your ragged breath. You fell back onto your rear with a tired sigh and your feet hung slightly over the precipice as you took in the harvest of autumn colours which painted the landscape below.

You leaned back on your hands as you gazed across the trees and foliage, a sense of peace descending upon you as birds chirped and squirrels ruffled the leaves above. You closed your eyes as you basked in the natural calm and breathed in the scent of mud and pine.

Finally, forcing your eyes open, you pulled up your feet and pushed yourself upright with a yawn. There was a long trek back and the sky was already dimming into a subtle pink dusk. You spun on your heels, catching an errant root with your toe as you wobbled clumsily on your legs. The mud slipped below you and suddenly your knees were sliding through the muck as you grasped desperately at the ground.

You continued to slide backwards, your legs falling into the void and you finally grasped the very root you had tripped upon. With only half of your body on even ground, you held on tightly and tried to pull your bottom back up. The task was made all the more difficult by the heavy bag strapped across your back and as you shimmied slowly onto the edge, the root began to tear from the dirt.

You gasped as it suddenly snapped within your grip and you found yourself slipping once more. It seemed to take forever and yet it was too quick for you to save yourself from tumbling completely over the edge. You spun through the air as you writhed and attempted to grab onto the wind, your body twisting awkwardly as you fell.

You closed your eyes, surrendering yourself to your fate and waited for the ground to meet you in a violent crash. Instead, you found yourself falling further than you thought possible and the descent seemed endless as you kept your eyes closed against your own death. You body turned once more and you were headed face on towards the ground and you finally opened your clenched eyelids.

The only thing you saw before the collision was a mass of dark waves and the flash of silver below. You landed heavily upon the form which emitted a deep grunt which turned into a series of confused growls and you tried to push yourself from atop it. As you found the clasp of your jacket hooked on the handle of a rather fearsome ax, you realized you had fallen onto somebody. The figure writhed below you as you tried to untangle yourself and you felt thick arms pulling you off roughly.

You let yourself be restrained as your heart beat in your ears and you spotted the dozen other men all around you. You could not see whoever it was who was holding onto you but their grip was unbreakable and you knew you had no chance of escape. You looked to the sky, which was still a faded shade of pink, though the cliff you had fallen from was no where to be found.

“Um,” You could not think of words as the pain set in through your ribs and legs, “Sorry?”

“What in Mahal?” The man you had fallen atop finally rose under the weight of his pack and weapons, “Where–”

“I–” You followed his deep blue eyes to the empty sky, “What the heck happened?”

“You would be best to tell us that, lass,” The deep voice rumbled from the body holding you back.

“I don’t know,” You said desperately, “I fell?”

“Let her go,” The man you had crushed ordered as he brushed the twigs from his fur collar, “If she tries to run, you have your ax.”

“Ax?” You raised a brow with fear, “I promise I won’t run. I don’t think I could,” You rubbed your sore legs.

“Aye,” Your victim responded as he rubbed his back, “A rather painful fall.”

“Sorry,” You repeated as you were finally released, “I swear I didn’t mean to.”

“Well, then,” The man who had been restraining you uttered from behind you and you turned to the bald-headed figure, “Who are ya then? Hmm, you following us?”

“What, no?!” You looked around at the rest of the group, “I don’t even know who you are.”

“Oh, no?” The man who had broken your fall, who seemed to be the leader, cut in, “Then what are you doing in the middle of nowhere?”

“You know as well as I,” You returned, gripping the straps of your bag nervously, “I just fell…out of the sky?” You looked around at the flat plain, “Holy shit.”

“Search her for weapons,” The leader interrupted you before you could start to panic, “Since she will not give us answers, we should at least make certain she cannot give us any trouble.”

“Weapons?” You grimaced nervously, “Why would I–” You once again spotted the shining head of his ax and cringed fearfully, “I can assure you I do not have anything like that.”

The bald dwarf tersely patted you down before roughly ripping your bag from your shoulders and you were afraid your arms would go with it. The bald man unzipped it after a moment of confusion and dumped the contents into the mud, kneeling to sift through your array of belongings. Admittedly, some of them were unnecessary to hiking but you had merely just added to your already overflowing backpack.

“Hey,” You tried to step forward but were stopped by another of the men, this one blond and less intimidating, “Just be careful.”

“Here,” The bald man finally stood, shooting you a harsh glare above his thick beard, “A knife.”

He unfolded your jack knife which you kept for emergencies and you realized it was not doing you so well in a dire situation. You frowned guiltily as he handed it to the leader and you quirked your lips with unease. You spotted the mace the man had brushed over and wondered why he would not be more concerned with that. Not that you were going to point it out at this juncture.

“Well, can I at least pick up the rest of my stuff?” You pointed to your pile of belongings, “Now that you’ve found what you were looking for.”

“Fine,” The leader sneered, “Help her, Fili. Watch her closely.”

“Watch her closely,” You mimicked under your breath as you knelt to gather your things back into your bag, “What am I going to do? You’ve found the knife…not that I was going to do anything.”

“He has rather good ears, you know?” The blond man commented as he handed you your brush, “You keep that up and he’s sure to hear you.”

“Hmmp,” You took the brush with a frown, “Let him hear.”

Once you were content that everything was where it belonged, you zipped your bag up and stood, strapping it back across your shoulders. You put your hands on your hips as you met the more than dozen pair of eyes which stared back and you sighed with unease and nervousness.

“So, can I go then?” You asked.

“No,” The leader growled at you as if it were a stupid question, “Not until we figure out why you were following us.”

“I wasn’t,” You pleaded, “Goddamn, I don’t even know where I am.”

“Well, if you don’t know where you are, where possibly would you be going?” He lowered his brow with skepticism, “Dwalin, you make sure she doesn’t try anything. The rest of you, we’ve got far to go.”

He turned away with one last dark look and you noticed him gripping his back and you felt guilty as you realized it was likely due to your crash landing. The bald dwarf grabbed your arm and pulled you forward with the forming train of men and you let yourself be dragged along. Even if you were suspect among the group, it would be safer than traveling on your own in this strange land.


	2. Lay of the Land

“All I wanted to do was go for a nice relaxing hike,” You rambled on to yourself as you walked along with the rather terrifying bald man, “That’s all.”

“For the last time,” He growled over to you, “Would ya be quiet?”

“Quiet?” You looked to him with wide eyes, your nerves out of control, “I’m lost. I don’t know where I am. I’m pretty sure I’m dead. Oh god, is this what death feels like? Are you death?”

“For Mahal’s sake, girl,” He nudged you forward gruffly, “You best settle yourself down before I do it for you.”

“What does that mean?” You could not help your heightened tone, your anxiety had finally kicked in and it was not letting up, “Oh god, oh god.”

“It means that you don’t look too heavy and one good knock to the head and I’ll be carrying you like a sack of potatoes,” He explained dully, “Better than listening to you go on like a cornered deer.”

“Ah, sorry,” You squeaked as you continued beside him, “I’m so sorry. I just—I don’t know.”

You looked to your feet, curtailing any further word vomit as you walked on with the group of rather fearsome looking men. You wondered why they were dressed so peculiarly but by now you were figuring there was something awry afoot. _How in the hell did you fall from a cliff into a flat plain? And why were these men so heavily armed?_  Axes, swords, knives; it was like you were traveling with a small army.

“I suppose this is as good a spot as any,” You heard the rather stern leader announce from the front of the line, “Oin, Gloin, get a fire going. Bombur and Bilbo, we’ll all be needing a good meal. The rest of you lot get camp set up.”

You were led over to the glowering leader by the equally gloomy bald man and your heart fluttered once more with fear. You stood silently, the flow of words suddenly stemmed by your rising anxiety.

“What do you want me to do with this one then?” The bald headed man asked with a sharp gesture towards you.

“See if you can find some rope,” The leader eyed you wearily, “Tie her up to a tree or the like.”

“What?” You nearly squeaked, “I promise I won’t go anywhere, just don’t tie me up.”

“ _Promise_ ,” He crossed his arms as he narrowed his eyes, “And why should I trust your word?”

“Thorin,” The blond man stepped up beside you and you flinched in surprise, “Kili and I will keep an eye on her.”

“Hmmm,” The leader pursed his lips, “I do not think that a wise idea.”

“Do you not trust us, Uncle?” He frowned under his braided mustache.

“You are my sister’s sons, of course I trust you,” The leader returned his own grimace, “I suppose you can handle her. She does not seem like to give you much trouble.”

“Oh, rude,” You uttered without thinking and received another dark look from the leader.

“Come on,” The blond gestured to his right, “Before he changes his mind.”

“Fine,” You could brook no argument with that; it would be better than being leashed to a tree like a dog, “Thank you.”

“Not at all,” The blond replied as he led you over to the dark-haired one you assumed was his brother, “I know how those two can be. A pair of grumps,” His brother turned to you with a smile, “You know Thorin was going to have her tied to a tree, Ki.”

“I would like to say I am surprised,” He replied as he tied down a corner of the half-secured tent, “But I recall he had similar tactics when he watched us as children.”

“Mmm, not so extreme,” The blond answered with a chuckle, “Oh, forgive us. You must be utterly confused.”

“That’s an understatement,” You gave an anxious grimace.

“Right, well let us start with names,” He smiled at you, “At least then you will be able to keep track of all of us. It can be rather difficult with so many dwarves.”

“Dwarves?” You looked around at the men who were all taller than you or close to, “I would hate to see full-sized people.”

“Mmm,” He raised his brow quizzically before continuing, “Anyhow, I am Fili and this is my brother Fili. You are?”

“[Y/N],” You answered meekly.

“Very nice,” Fili said encouragingly, “Our uncle, the one you fell upon, that is Thorin and the bald one is Dwalin.”

“Okay,” You looked back to the two gruff dwarves as they stood in some dire conversation.

“Then you have Oin and Gloin,” He pointed out the two dwarves around the rising fire, “And Ori, Dori, Nori.”

“Bofur, Bombur, Bifur, Balin, and Bilbo,” Kili finished as he gestured to each in turn, “Though Bilbo is not a dwarf, he’s a hobbit.”

“Alright,” You replied with confusion, unsure of what else to say, “Why are you being so friendly?”

“Because we can,” Fili answered as he helped his brother tie down the last of the tent, “We know how difficult our uncle can be and you did not start out on the best terms.”

“Yes, falling on him and the like,” Kili laughed once more, “Though it was quite a sight.”

“I am still trying to fathom where you came from,” Fili stood with a grin.

“Me too,” You frowned.

“You truly do not know?” Fili lowered his brow.

“Nope,” You sighed, “I mean, where would I have come from. All I remember is falling off this cliff and–”

“You fell off a cliff?” Kili intoned with amusement.

“Yes,” You bit your lip, “But I didn’t land where I should have.”

“Have you fallen from many cliffs?” Fili asked lightly.

“No…” You narrowed your eyes, “Look, I don’t know where I am or how I got here. Though the landing was not as funny as it seems,” You rubbed your now aching hips.

“If only you could have seen it,” Kili mused as he stood beside his brother.

“Hmmm,” You fiddled with one of the clasps on the front of your jacket, “I do not think any one else thought it was funny.”

“Yes, well…” Fili looked around the rest of the camp, “We cannot do much about that. You will have to deal with Thorin sooner or later.”

“That should be quite the ordeal,” Kili’s words gave you less hope, “The best advice I could give you would be to stay quiet.”

“Or huddle into a ball,” Fili added with a grin, “Protect your most sensitive parts.”

“Great,” You frowned again, “That really helps.”

“Do not worry so much, [Y/N],” Fili followed your eyes to Thorin and Dwalin who were still likely discussing tying you to a tree, “I do not think it will be that bad. A few questions and nothing more.”

“You think?” You looked back to him anxiously, “Because I do not think I could even answer them. What then?”

“Well…” Kili took his own peek at his uncle, “Then we should wish you good luck.”

 


	3. Falling by Alicia Keys But Not Metaphorical

You sat wringing your hands as you sat beside Kili who was failing to engage you in conversation. All you could think of was how many sharp weapons were around and how many reasons you had given for them to be used. The moon was bright above as you stared into the fire and wished that you would awake from your coma soon. At least, you hoped this was some sort of dream.

You were pulled from your daze as heavy footsteps stirred the dirt in front of you and you looked to find Fili’s furry boots standing before you.

“Here,” He bent and offered you one of the bowls cradled in his arms before handing one to his brother, “You must be hungry.”

“Um, thanks,” You attempted a smile as you looked over to Thorin who was watching his nephew, “Should you be feeding me though?”

“Nonsense,” He fell back into the dirt beside you, keeping his bowl balanced, “My uncle can be a mule’s arse but he would not forsake one nourishment.”

“Well…” Kili gave a doubtful look, “I wouldn’t be so confident in our dear uncle.”

“Shhh, Ki,” Fili shot his brother a sneer, “Do not frighten her any more than she is,” He returned his eyes to you with a reassuring smile, “And you: eat. You will need your strength.”

“To face Thorin,” Kili finished and received another warning look.

“Oh no,” You said through your first bite of soup, “I don’t think I can do it.”

“You don’t really have a choice,” Fili said ruefully.

“You could let me go…” You chanced with a pleading smile.

“We’re nice but not that nice,” Kili pursed his lips, “Besides, you are better off facing him outright than trying to flee.”

“He’s right,” Fili agreed, “If you try to run, you will only seem guilty.”

“You don’t think I am?” You asked anxiously.

“It is a possibility,” Fili ceded, “But I truly cannot imagine you are more than a lost girl with no idea what she’s doing.”

“Huh,” You swallowed another mouthful, “That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

“Wait, that might be it,” Fili’s eyes shone with mischief.

“What are you thinking, Fi?” Kili grinned from his side.

“The oldest tactic in the book brother,” He shared a knowing look with his brother, “Diversion.”

“Diversion?” You glanced from one brother to the other, “What do you mean?”

“Well, if Thorin does question you, which he will because he thinks the whole world is out to get him,” Fili began, “All you have to do is distract him.”

“How?” You frowned.

“You seem clever enough,” Fili looked back to his uncle, “But if you truly have no answer to give him, give one which makes him ask something else.”

“I see,” Kili nodded with a smirk.

“I don’t,” You followed Fili’s eyes to his uncle who was now glaring at you.

“Our uncle is easy to annoy,” Fili explained, “As you may well have noticed…If you can wear him down, he will eventually run out of questions and realize that you indeed have nothing to tell him.”

“You want me to annoy him?” You lifted a brow as you looked back to the blond dwarf, “He has an ax…and a sword.”

“Bah,” Fili waved away the risk, “He will not use them on you.”

“And what about Dwalin?” You looked to the bald dwarf who was thankfully distracted by his brother, Balin, “Your uncle seems to trust him.”

“We cannot help you with that one,” Kili answered, “Let us hope it does not get to that.”

“Great,” You said dryly as you finished your stew, “So, the fall didn’t kill me but a grumpy dwarf may–”

“Ahem,” Thorin cleared his throat as he stepped up beside Fili and you had not even noticed him approach, “Thank you, Fili, for watching this one,” He shot you a dull look, “And you, Kili, but I think you have done more than enough.”

“It is quite alright, Uncle,” Kili said cheerily, “We can watch her for the night.”

“No, I do not think so,” Thorin lowered his brow, “She is not a guest.”

“We know,” Fili replied defensively, “But she is not hurting any one.”

“Not as yet,” Thorin narrowed his eyes, “Though she is eating our food apparently.”

“A bowl of meagre stew,” Fili argued as he stood, “Barely a burden upon the Company.”

“Perhaps not,” Thorin frowned, “But we cannot trust her merely because she is little more fearsome than a mouse.”

“Mouse?!” You got to your feet, having enough of his disregard, “I am not just a mouse.”

“Mmm,” He turned to you, his eyes a sharp as knives, “Surely not. What are you then? Bounty hunter? Spy?”

“Just me,” You managed through your rising fear, “But you cannot stand here and insult me and expect me not to say anything.”

“My nephews may be naive enough to think you harmless,” He sneered at you, “But I am not. You have much to explain and you will talk.”

“What?” You looked to Fili as Thorin seized your arm and began to pull you away, “Can’t it wait? I’m tired.”

“I do not care,” He growled as Fili gave you one last pitying look.

“And sore,” You pleaded, though he continued to drag you away, “I fell quite hard.”

“I know,” He grimaced as he kept his eyes ahead, “You needn’t remind me.”

“I apologized,” You offered meekly, “And I am still sorry.”

“Hmmm,” He sighed as he continued to pull you across camp, “Apologies will not save you.”

He tore back the flap of his tent and shoved you through with another grunt. You nearly fell into the dirt inside the tent where a candle burned and you wished you had fallen to your death on that cliff.  _What were you going to do?_  You were not so clever as Fili had foolishly believed to be.

“Now,” Thorin followed you inside, “You are going to sit down and answer my questions.”

“You can ask me whatever you want,” You replied desperately, “But I cannot promise you answers.”

“Sit,” He pointed to the ground sharply, “And quiet.”

“How will I answer you if I have to be quiet?” You retorted but clasped your mouth shut upon seeing his sneer, sitting silently in the dirt.

“This is your last chance,” He warned as he crossed his arms, “You can co-operate or I can tie you to a tree for the night.”

“I already offered to,” You returned with a frown, “Just get on with it.”

“Fine,” He narrowed his eyes, “Who are you?”

“[Y/N],” You answered cluelessly, “And I am lost. I am not a spy or anything. I truly do not even know where I am.”

“You don’t?” He scoffed, “And how is it you have survived with only a knife on your own, hmm? An orc would have your head in an instant.”

“What the heck’s an orc?” You widened your eyes.

“You don’t–” He paused, a flicker of doubt in his features, “Do not try that.”

“Try what?” You rubbed your neck anxiously.

“To act like your are so stupid,” He paced around you with fierce eyes, “Next you will tell me you do not know what an elf is.”

“Elves?” You raised a brow, “Like the little tiny ones on the cereal boxes.”

“What? Cereal?” He huffed, “No.”

“Well, then,” You bit your lip, “I haven’t any idea.”

“So who is it then?” He knelt before you, his eyes searching you with suspicion, “Who are you working for?”

“Linda,” You answered honestly, “She’s my manager.”

“Linda?” He paused a moment as he thought, “Do not be wise with me.”

“Honest to god,” You raised your hand, “She is kind of a horrible boss but I do what she says. Photocopies and the like.”

“Photocopies?” He seemed even more confused before the intense light returned to his eyes, “One more chance for you to tell the truth; who are you working for?”

“Linda!” You replied desperately, “She’s got ashy hair and looks like she ate a lemon.”

“Enough,” He straightened up with exasperation and pulled you up by the back of your jacket collar, “I warned you.”

He pulled your bag off your shoulders and threw it into the corner as he turned you around. You felt him winding something around your wrists before you could wriggle away and you tried to escape his grip. He merely tightened his hold and continued to bind your wrists, tightening the rope in a thick knot before letting you go. Your arms were held back by the taut rope and you struggled against it futilely as you turned back to him.

“What the hell, man?” You continued to try to pull loose your hands, “I told you the truth.”

“That comes off when you tell me the real truth,” He growled, “Even then, I may just let you languish in your binds.”

“Please,” Your shoulders were already horribly achy from your fall, “You don’t have to do this.”

“I do,” He grumbled darkly, “I have a Company to look after and I would not put them at risk over a pathetic creature like yourself.”

“I–” You felt like you had been slapped, “Fine then. Do I get to sleep or…”

“There,” He pointed to the dirt which you had stirred during your interrogation, “It should be a most restful night.”

“Oh, very,” You replied dryly, as you carefully sat back down in the dirt, nearly falling.

“One more thing,” He neared you and pulled your legs straight as he knelt with another length of rope, wrapping it around your ankles, “To be safe.”

“Of course,” You commented wryly as he tied your legs as tightly as your wrists, “A pathetic creature like me could never be restrained so easily.”

“If you insist on continuing on so, I will be forced to gag you,” He warned as he tightened the last knot, “Understood?”

“Understood,” You mumbled as you looked to your bound feet.

You raised your eyes from your boots as you sensed his movement and watched him as he unfurled his bedroll and laid across it heavily. As he did so, you noticed his attempt to stretch out his shoulders and the way he once again grabbed at his lower back. Again, you felt a pang of guilt for falling upon him and your own pain arose as you remembered the violent crash.

He put out the candle with his thumb as he turned his back to you and you laid back in the dirt, managing to push yourself onto your side. Your shoulder dug heavily into the ground as you fought to get comfortable and you closed your eyes in the grim dark of the tent. You were tired and wished for nothing but sleep, yet you knew that even if you did manage to doze, it would be less than restful.


	4. Long Live the King (Please No)

“Uggghhhh,” The groan slipped from between your lips before you even opened your eyes.

Your shoulders were tight and achy from sleeping on ground and even more so from the horrid fall the day before. Your head was filled with the heavy snoring which came from the other side of the small tent and the chirping of the morning birds. You tried to roll onto your back, forgetting about your bound arms and let out another grunt as you crushed your wrists.

You wriggled around for a moment before you managed to sit up, your spine ringing with pain. As you balanced yourself on your bottom, you felt the shift of liquid in your bladder and realized you had an emergency on your hands. You cursed under your breath as you tried to move your legs under the tight rope but only managed to further agitate your skin. You repositioned yourself so there was not so much weight on your bladder and tried to think of anything but.

“Oh god,” You mumbled as you were sure you would never make it;  _would you even be allowed to attend to your business?_  “My life. I swear…”

“Do you ever cease your talking?” Thorin rolled onto his back as he glared at you through heavy eyelids.

“Sorry,” You looked at your knees with shame, “I didn’t even realize…”

“Hmmmp,” His grunt curtailed any further words as he sat up and reached up to rub his shoulders, “What are you grumbling about anyway? Are you ready to tell the truth?”

“I told you the truth,” You frowned at him, “And the matter is I–” You looked back to the dirt realizing this might be a little awkward.

“Get on with it,” He pushed his arms back with a pained grunt, “You what?”

“I’ve got to…” You darted your eyes to him before returning your gaze downward, “I’ve got to go…you know? Like, pee?”

“Pee?” He repeated skeptically, “Oh. Well…”

“I really don’t want to do so in my pants,” You commented meekly as you shifted once more.

“Hmmm,” He uttered ponderously, “And how do I know this is not some trick?”

“Everyone has needs,” You pleaded, “I promise. I will pee and nothing else….but if I don’t go soon, it’s going to happen one way or the other.”

“Fine,” He pushed himself from the ground with a grimace, “But one false move…”

“And you will take my head off?” You offered as he pulled you up by your jacket collar, “I like my head so you don’t need to worry.”

“Come on,” He nudged you forward as you hopped on your bound feet, bending awkwardly under the tent flap.

He led you toward the tree line, every leap adding more pressure to your bladder and you were not sure you would make it. He drew you into the thick of the brush and turned you back to him as he pulled roughly at the knots around your wrists. He bent to do the same with your ankles and you waited silently, eyeing the ax he had slung across his shoulder as you had left the tent.

“I am going to turn around,” He looked into your eyes with warning, “You have one minute to do what you must. Do you understand?”

“Y-yes,” You squeaked, hoping it would be enough time, “I understand.”

“Alright then,” He crossed his arms as he narrowed his eyes, turning slowly around.

Once you saw the back of his shoulders you ripped open your fly and tore down your jeans, squatting over the dirt precariously. You urged your brimming bladder and the sound of water hitting the ground filled the small inlet of the forest. The noise brought a blush to your cheeks but you were too relieved to care, having to restrain a sigh of release.

You finished with your needs and pulled you pants back up quickly, returning to your former state of awkwardness as you looked to the Thorin’s back. You would have laughed if he did not have an ax across his back and a want to use it.

“Done,” You announced stepping away from the puddle.

He turned silently back to you and seized your wrists once more as he turned you and wound the rope around them. You did not even attempt to struggle as he was much too strong for that and you waited dully as he did the same to your ankles. You shook your head as he straightened up and gave an exasperated sigh.

“You know,” You frowned, “I am not going anywhere.”

“I could still gag you, if need be,” He threatened before he turned and grabbed your arm, pulling you back through the trees.

You hopped beside the gruff dwarf, your feet slipping on the blanket of leaves and you found yourself on your knees. A rock jabbed your leg painfully and you groaned before Thorin pulled you back to your feet without a word. You cringed at your own clumsiness and continued on, feeling like a rabbit with an inner ear disorder.

“Ahh,” You stumbled once more as you came in sight of camp, this time over nothing, “Son of a bitch!”

“For Mahal’s sake,” Thorin pulled you up once more, “I have seen baby deer who walk better than you.”

“Well, if I wasn’t tied,” You squinted at him with irritation.

“I cannot fathom that it has done anything against your balance,” He retorted, “As I recall, you fell atop my head.”

“Yes, I remember,” You grumbled, pondering at how the insult had seemed half a joke, “But at least then I could have caught myself.”

“Barely,” He grumbled as he neared the dwindling fire, pointing to the ground, “Sit before you fall again.”

“As you command,” You replied dryly as you managed to lower yourself with less than a crash.

“Bofur,” He kicked the dwarf with his toe as he dozed beneath his hat, “Wake up. Are you not suppose to be on watch?”

“Huh?” The pig-tailed dwarf awoke with a start, “I was, I was.”

“Get the others up,” Thorin ordered tersely, “Make sure Bilbo readies breakfast. It will be a long day…especially with this one.”

“Oh my god,” You grumbled as Thorin stepped towards his tent, “Could he be any ruder?”

“I would not start that, lass,” Bofur advised as he stirred the embers and added kindling to the pit, “You would not want to know how cruel he can be. Besides, he is much more cordial than most kings.”

“King?” You raised your brow as you looked back to Thorin’s back disappearing into his tent flap, “I didn’t know he was a king…should have guessed it. With an ego–”

“Aye, lass,” Bofur intoned, “What did I just tell you? I am trying to help you keep that little head of yours.”

“Hmmm, I suppose you’re right,” You sighed as you looked back to his concerned face, “Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” He stood and nudged another dwarf with his foot, “I cannot say you’ll keep your head for so long.”

“Great,” You bit your lip as you watched him rouse the rest of the camp, “Then I suppose I should treasure it while I still have it.”


	5. Is that a sword or are you just happ--Oh no, that is an actual sword.

“Oi, [Y/N],” Fili greeted as he sat beside you, “You look glum this morn.”

“Oh, I do?” You twisted against your ropes uselessly, “It may have something to do with having been tied up all night.”

“All night?” He frowned as he looked at the knots around your ankles, “So things did not go so well with my uncle?”

“No, not really,” You twiddled your numbing fingers behind your back, “I am only lucky he did not gag me.”

“Though I am sure he offered,” Fili chuckled.

“It’s not funny,” You shifted in the dirt, “Couldn’t you loosen these a bit for me?”

“Believe me, I would love to,” He replied ruefully, “But my uncle would have me tied and gagged myself if I even touched those ropes.”

“Hmm,” You sighed hopelessly.

“Here you go,” Kili appeared beside his brother holding out a bowl of gray porridge, “Oh, [Y/N], I didn’t know you were awake.”

“Unfortunately,” You grumbled back.

“I would have brought you a bowl, but–”

“Don’t worry about it,” You quirked your lip in disdain, “Your uncle would not have me wasting such precious oats.”

“You can have some of mine,” Fili offered with a generous smile.

“No, please, enjoy,” You really did not want to be a burden more than you had to, “Although…”

“What is it?” Fili raised his brow quizzically.

“My bag is still in Thorin’s tent,” You explained, recalling your treasure trove of a backpack, “Could you get it for me?”

“Oh, uh,” He looked over to his uncle’s tent with nervous eyes, “Well, I do not think he would deny you your own belongings.”

“Thanks,” You gave a weak smile, “I am kind of, you know, tied up at the moment, so…”

“Alright, alright,” He handed his bowl to his brother as he stood, “I am going.”

You watched as the blond dwarf braced himself and walked towards the ominous royal tent. If even he was so intimidated by Thorin, perhaps you should be more worried than you already were. You bit your lip anxiously as his uncle appeared at the flap and they had a conversation which consisted of pleading gestures from Fili and what appeared to be growls from Thorin. The king disappeared back into the canvas before your bag was tossed through it rather heavily and Fili turned back with a reassuring grin as he lifted it from the ground.

“Here you go,” He set the beg beside you as he sat on the other side of it, “I told you he would hand it over.”

“Yes, though he didn’t seem too keen,” You muttered, realizing you had no way to dig inside your collection, “Could I ask another favour?”

“Certainly, you need me to get you something from your bag?” He was a lot quicker than you on the thinking front.

“Yes,” You grumbled in defeat, “Left pocket. There’s a granola bar in there…or should be.”

“Alright,” He narrowed his eyes at the zipper before pulling it the right way and dug inside pulling out a tube of lipstick, “This?”

“Nope,” You shook your head, “Keep looking.”

He continued to stir through the small pocket which contained more than you had even known. Lipstick, eye drops, sanitizer, cough drops, and finally your granola bar. You smiled as he removed the medley of fruit and nut and he gave a proud smirk.

“At last,” You were genuinely excited as your stomach began to growl, “Unwrap and…” You bent your legs, “Put it between my knees.”

“You know, I could just feed it to you,” He offered with a chuckle.

“No, no, you should eat before yours get cold,” You shook your head, “Besides, I’m not a child.”

“No?” He mused as he pulled away the plastic and placed the snack bar between your locked knees.

“No,” You lowered your brow as you bent forward awkwardly and took a bite.

“You could have fooled me,” He commented as he took his bowl back from Kili.

“Thanks,” You replied dryly as you swallowed, “But look at me now. Your uncle can’t say anything to me. I fed myself. Well, mostly.”

“We will tell him no different,” Kili assured, “The very essence of independence.”

“Hey,” You took another bite and chewed darkly, “I don’t need your sarcasm. I’ve enough problems.”

“So, it must have been quite the night,” Kili pondered aloud, “You and Thorin, sharing a tent.”

“Me sleeping on the ground, hands and feet tied,” You tried not to choke on an errant oat, “While your uncle snored across his bedroll. I swear, he sounds furious even in his sleep.”

“I would be rather annoyed too if one had fallen on me so heavily,” Kili mused, “Truly, I know I’ve said it before, but it was an absolutely wonderful spectacle.”

“Agh,” You uttered with irritation, “Yes, yes. And now I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus.”

“Bus?” Fili repeated with confusion.

“Hmm, I just—everything hurts,” You explained exasperatedly.

“Imagine how Thorin feels,” Kili offered with a smirk, “He is not as young as he used to be.”

“I would say neither am I,” You swallowed another mouthful, “I don’t feel so.”

“I, at least, had hoped our uncle had a heart,” Fili looked to his brother, “I mean, how could he be so cruel to her?”

“She is quite endearing,” Kili commented with a wry smirk, “When she is not chattering on.”

“What are you two on about?” You looked between them with confusion.

“Can we give you some advice?” Fili turned his eyes back to you.

“What advice?” You asked suspiciously.

“Well, you’re a…lady,” Kili began lightly.

“And Thorin is a man,” Fili continued with a sparkle in his eye, “Who, as I recall, is quite fond of ladies.”

“I’ve never seen him be anything less than cordial to ladies,” Kili gave his own knowing smirk.

“Well…not until now,” Fili agreed as he grinned wider, “But let’s attribute that up to the rather unfortunate introduction.”

“Okay, I hope you aren’t saying what I think you are,” You frowned deeply as you nearly dropped the granola from between your knees.

“All we are saying is that you should use your womanly wiles the next time Thorin gets a little overbearing,” Fili explained bemusedly.

“Yes, I do not think there is any here would say no to that,” Kili chuckled, “Not even our uncle.”

“You cannot possibly think that would work?” You lifted your brow incredulously.

“Why wouldn’t it?” Fili replied, “You’ve just been taking the wrong approach.”

“No, it won’t work,” You shook your head, “And I would never…I mean, I think I’ve embarrassed myself enough.”

“Alright,” Fili raised his hand defensively, “We were only trying to help…because from what I can tell, I do not think you’ll be free of those ropes anytime soon.”

“Not unless you can convince Thorin to loosen them,” Killi added as a matter of fact, “And you haven’t many choices as to how.”

“Yes, his trust does not come easy,” Fili swallowed a spoonful of porridge, “But if you can trick him a little…It’s not trust you need, just a little distraction. Make him forget why he tied you up in the first place.”

“Ugh, I don’t think it would be that easy,” You furrowed your brow at the brothers, “Now, help me up.”

Fili set aside his empty bowl and lifted you easily to your feet. You thanked him with an unbalanced wobble before you gained your footing and began to hop around the circle of dwarves. Sitting for so long with legs bound had caused your muscles to strain and you figured leaping around would not hurt anyone but yourself.

You were just beginning your second lap when Thorin finally emerged from his tent and you hopped right into his back. He was as sturdy as a brick wall and you found yourself falling back onto your butt with a pained grunt.

“What in Mahal–” He turned as he glowered down at you, “Can you not go one day without crashing into me?”

“Apparently not,” You mumbled as you looked away guiltily.

“What were you doing anyway?” He pulled you up roughly by your jacket, “Trying to escape.”

“No,” You narrowed your eyes, “Obviously that would just be stupid.”

“Then why are you jumping around like a child?” He asked gruffly.

“My legs are cramped because someone has tied them together,” You retorted viciously.

“I will tie them to your wrists if you carry on,” He threatened and you thought about Kili and Fili’s suggestion; you really did not think that would work.

“Fine,” You glared back at him, “But if you don’t untie me eventually, you’ll be forced to carry me.”

“Or leave you in the forest and let the wolves have you,” He returned wryly.

“I cannot say that doesn’t sound enticing,” You scoffed.

“That it does,” He agreed and smirked, the curve of his mouth catching you off guard.

“Hmmmp,” You could not think of another clever retort and so you pivoted awkwardly, “What a stubborn–”

“What are you saying?” He mused before you could take your first hop away.

“Nothing, your majesty,” You gritted through your teeth, “Nothing at all.”

You continued to leap away in departure, trying not to stumble into the dirt; as it was, you were making a rather ridiculous exit. Finally, you reached the king’s nephews and graciously allowed them to lower you back to the ground. You would rather a little help than embarrass yourself once more. Especially when you knew that arrogant king was watching.


	6. A Literal Pain in the Back

Your ankles were killing you but you were at least glad to have them unbound, even if it was only so that you could walk endlessly among the parade of dwarves. You could feel the rope burn around your legs as your pants brushed your skin and your wrists were still tied behind you. You had lobbied as hard to have those loosed but Thorin had threatened once more to leave you for the elements and wild beasts.

You looked up at the dimming sky and frowned, knowing that it was not merely the approach of another night turning the gray to black. A storm was ahead of you and the land was only growing harder to traverse. The grass was becoming sparse and patchy and stone more common across the rugged ground. Ahead was a great set of cliffs which you could tell you were heading directly for and you groaned at the thought.

“In here,” Thorin led the Company under an overhang at the side of the cliff, barely enough to shield all from the rains which would come with the moon, “Best to get camp set before the storm comes.”

“Yes, best to do that,” You muttered to yourself and Fili elbowed you in warning.

“[Y/N],” He hissed under his breath, “Another word and he’ll let you sleep in the rain.”

“Sorry,” You uttered with shame, “I’ll zip it.”

“And tomorrow will be most daunting,” Thorin continued on, “We will be ascending the cliffs.”

“I knew it,” You grumbled unthinkingly.

“For Mahal’s sake,” Fili said as he and his brother began to unfold the canvas, “You cannot help yourself.”

“I know,” You replied guiltily, “But can you blame me for being miserable?”

“I suppose not,” He began to set up the poles in tandem with Kili.

“I would help,” You offered, “But you know? I’m a bit tied up at the moment.”

“Yes, we do,” Kili straightened up, “You have not stopped chattering about it all day.”

“Not much else to talk about,” You said dryly.

“Perhaps you should complain to Thorin,” Fili grunted as he pulled the canvas tight, “He’s the one who is to blame.”

“I don’t think that fact would bother him so much,” You kicked the dirt as you looked over to Thorin’s glare beneath his furrowed brow, “Oh no, you don’t think I’ll have to stay with him another night?”

“Yes, I am afraid you will,” Fili answered dully, “Even if we offered to take you in…Well, you should have taken our advice.”

“Whatever,” You shrugged as you stretched your legs and the sky growled, “I guess it is better than sleeping out here.”

“Nephews,” Thorin’s deep voice cut as deep as the nearing thunder, “I think you and her,” He shot you a dark look, “Have spent enough time together for the day.”

“I would disagree,” You mumbled and received another dangerous glare.

“You are clever,” He said to his nephews, “But you cannot let this one fool you.”

“Uncle,” Fili frowned with disappointment, “You don’t truly think she is dangerous, do you?”

“I do not know,” He grumbled as he crossed his arms, “And until I do, I would not have you colluding so.”

“Colluding?” You echoed incredulous, “What on earth am I going to say? Hmm?”

“Something irritating, no doubt,” He growled without so much as looking at you, “Just remember, you cannot trust her..I would rather you not learn that the hard way.”

“We were only being nice, Uncle,” Kili stepped up beside his brother, “She has not done anything…but we would not be so foolish as to let our caution wane.”

“Thanks,” You raised a brow wryly.

“Good,” Thorin let his arms fall and grabbed shoulder of your jacket, “Come on, then.”

“What?” You tried to resist but had to let him turn you as you could not possibly catch yourself should you fall, “But–”

“But nothing,” He dragged you across camp, “You can fool those two but not me. Besides, you’ve yet to answer my questions.”

“Ugh, not again,” You groaned, “You are so—”

“So what?” He asked dully as he ushered you under his tent flap, following behind, “Stubborn? Arrogant? I have rather sharp ears.”

“Well, you can’t claim to have not lived up to those words,” You frowned as the canvas fell closed.

“Sit,” He pointed to the corner like you were some misbehaving child and you sat beside your bag which awaited you there.

“You know,” You began as you settled in next to the heavy pack, “I could carry my own bag if you did not insist on tying me so.”

“I would rather the extra weight,” He narrowed his eyes as he stood with arms crossed, “Now, I will wait until you are ready.”

“For what?” You grimaced up at him.

“To tell me the truth,” He looked down his nose at you.

“Well, then you will be waiting forever,” You replied, “I have told you everything.”

“All night if need be,” He returned as if not hearing you and bent to tie your legs once more.

“Ah,” You hissed as he tightened the rope around your legs, “Shit.”

“Hmm,” He looked at you under his brows, “You’ve a rather colourful mouth.”

“Yes, but no word you would ever believe,” You grumbled as you watched him sit on his bedroll, “So whatever. Ask your questions and I’ll give you the same answers. Tonight. Tomorrow night. Every night. Because I’m telling the truth.”

“Where did you come from?” He ignored you once more.

“I told you, I fell,” You hung your head in defeat, “My boss is Linda. I was hiking and I’ve apparently gotten quite lost.”

“Where did you come from?” He repeated.

“Ahh,” A pang went through your shoulder as you shifted, “I fell! On you! You should know. I sure do because it fucking hurts.”

“Pardon me?” He sounded scandalized at your language.

“My shoulder hurts from falling on you,” You looked at him as you enunciated for effect, “And my back and legs and–”

“Yes, yes,” He waved away your words, “I know quite well the aches of your fall.”

“Is that it then?” You frowned as you rolled your eyes, “You’re mad because I fell on you and it hurt?”

“I can handle pain,” He returned gruffly, “More than you know.”

“Mm-hmm,” You pursed your lips as you returned his intense glare, “I’ve apologized already and I’m done with that.”

“Well then,” He stood as he rubbed his stomach, “I think I smell a stew cooking.”

You lowered your brow but dared not say a word; you would not beg, no matter how empty your stomach felt. Instead, you wriggled in the dirt and laid back, using your bag as a pillow. You never broke eye contact through your motion and set the stone behind your eyes.

“Fine,” You tried to shrug but failed to do so against the rope, “I’m tired anyhow.”

You closed your eyes and braced yourself for him to tell you to sit up or that you did not get to sleep, but nothing happened. There was a moment of tense silence as you felt his eyes remain upon you and then you heard the sound of his feet in the dirt and the rustle of the canvas. You cautiously opened one eye to peek around the empty tent and contented yourself that you would not be further questioned. You shifted against your bag and closed your eye; you were actually pretty tired.


	7. Raindrops Keep Fallin' on my Head

You were shivering uncontrollably when you woke and somehow you were even more achy than the morning before. Beneath you, the ground was damp and the air around you chilly. Your head slipped from your bag and you wriggled in the dirt like a fish as you struggled to get yourself into a sitting position. Finally sitting up, you looked over at snoring dwarf king beneath his heavy cloak; a stab of jealousy rising in you.

You could hear the steady sheet of rain pattering on the outside of the canvas and you sighed with dread. You would no doubt be trudging through the muck and while your jacket was nice, it would be soaked through in no time. You straightened your legs, trying to stretch the cramps out before your dug your feet into the dirt. You needed to get moving or the aches would only grow worse; a few hops around the tent would do.

You tried to rock yourself forward onto your feet but fell back onto your butt with a stifled grunt. You tried several more times before you were out of breath and nearly ready to cede defeat. Catching your breath, you turned yourself over and managed to steady yourself on your knees. One good sway backwards and you would be upright; you were not so helpless as you seemed.

Taking one last inhale to ready yourself and smirking with genius, you pushed your toes down and swung your weight back as you used your legs to raise yourself. Your heels met the ground and you were standing…but only for a moment. You had overestimated the force and your arms were uselessly bound behind you. You could not have even tried to save yourself as you found yourself falling once more and you landed in the worst spot possible.

You fell back onto Thorin as he let out a surprised grunt, awakening from his heavy slumber. You yelped as you landed atop him and did your best to roll off, though you did not make it far. He sat up abruptly and pushed you away, reaching for the sword on the other side of him.

“No, please don’t,” You pleaded as you tried to shimmy away but did little more than rock yourself painfully onto your stomach, “Sorry, sorry! I didn’t mean to.”

“Hmmm,” He eyed you with fatigued irritation, “I should,” He released the hilt of his sword slowly, “It would seem you are making a habit of falling on me. Rather painfully, too.”

“I wasn’t trying to,” You angled yourself on your shoulder, “I was only trying to get up.”

“And go where?” He narrowed his eyes.

“No where…” You knew it sounded like a lie, “I only wanted to move around a bit.”

“Mmmm,” He pursed his lips, rubbing his shoulder with a grunt, “There’s not much room for that in here.”

“Yes, so I have figured out,” You frowned, knowing you had not thought your plan out, “Do you think you could help me up?”

“I could,” He mused as he stood and clasped his cloak around his shoulders, “But I do not know if I should.”

“Ah, fine,” You rolled around onto your wrists, suppressing the pained grunt which threatened, “I’ll just do it myself.”

“As I recall, that did not go so well before,” He commented as you ignored him.

You writhed around until you were sitting up once more and went back to your former tactic of trying to lift yourself forward onto your feet. You rocked and nearly made it before crashing back into the dirt. Three more times and you were out of breath but reluctant to admit defeat as Thorin continued to watch you. You did not need to look at him to know he was undoubtedly finding amusement with your little struggle.

“Come on, then,” He lifted you up easily, “You are going to hurt yourself.”

“Wouldn’t you like that?” You asked dryly as you were finally steady on your feet.

“I would if it did not lead so often to my own pain,” He let you go and stood back to narrow his eyes at you, though this expression was not so wary as before; you could not be sure what he was thinking.

“Alright then,” You shifted on your feet before hopping back cautiously, “Better stretch my legs before the day starts.”

“Better,” He agreed as he raised a brow, “You do not want to fall on the path we will be taking.”

“Oh, I think I’ve fallen further,” You muttered as you began to take the two hops the tent allowed you, all while ignoring Thorin’s taunting gaze, “Would it not be a blessing if I did? For you, I mean?”

“No,” He grumbled and you found him with arms crossed once more, “You’ve yet to tell me the truth…and you will.”

“Oh god,” You rolled your eyes, “Then it would be blessing for me.”

“Hmm,” He grunted his stern grunt, “Well, you stretch your legs and I will wake my men.”

“Oh no, but shouldn’t you keep an eye on me?” You soaked your voice in sarcasm, “I could run away, you know?”

“Not far,” He returned as he turned to the flap, pulling up the hood of his cloak before he left into the curtain of rain outside.

“That–” You began but could not find the right word to express your annoyance, “I am so fucked.”

You continued your pathetic jaunt around the interior of the tent before you stopped in front of Thorin’s bedroll. He had left his sword, not to mention his ax, and well…he knew not to trust you. Not that you were up to anything but you were tired of being bound so. You bit your lip as you pondered cutting your ropes but your brain held you back; he would likely only tie you tighter next time.

You turned reluctantly forgetting your hopes of freedom and listened to the stir of voice outside the tent. Thorin did not say you had to stay inside. You bent forward, nodding your head forward as you tried to flip your hood up. You kept up the comical effort as your hood failed to slip further than the bottom of your neck. You stood straight and leaned forward quickly once more, nearly dizzying yourself, and the tent flap rustled beside you.

“What–” Thorin’s voice was coated in confusion, “What are you doing?”

“Trying to put my hood up,” You straightened and turned to look at him, “How else would I do that?”

“Mahal,” He tilted his head incredulously before stepping towards you and swiftly pulling your hood over your head, “There. Where were you off to anyhow? I did not give you leave to go.”

“Just outside,” You replied from under your hood, “I’m bored.”

“Bored?” He repeated dully, “How tragic?”

“Very,” You commented dryly, “Do I have your leave or not?”

“Go right ahead,” He seemed a little to eager, “The rain is rather heavy, though.”

“Hence, the hood,” You rolled your eyes once more as you hopped past him to the canvas opening.

You bent under the tent flap as you pushed your head through, eyeing the low fire burning under the only dry patch of the overhang. You took your first hop out but the mud slid under your feet and you found yourself falling forwards helplessly. Your face hit the mud and your whole front was plastered in the muck as you lay half in and half out of the tent.

“Oh, and it’s slippery,” Thorin offered from within and you sighed into the mud as you felt him pulling you from behind to place you back on your feet.

“You know,” You began as you felt the mud dripping from your chin, “That wouldn’t have happened if I wasn’t tied up.”

“I know,” He ceded with a smirk, “Best to be careful where you step…or hop.”

He turned back into the tent and left you in the shower of rain, which at least washed away some of the mud which had stained your entire front. You spotted Fili and Kili as they approached the fire with yawns from below their hoods and you figured it was better than going back inside. You hopped over slowly, trying not to slip once more until you were next to them, barely keeping yourself from falling into the fire.

“Hey,” You greeted, wishing you could hold your frigid hands up to the flame.

“Good morning,” Fili replied as he looked to you, grinning as he saw your messy appearance, “And what happened to you?”

“I fell,” You grumbled, “Again.”

“Hmm, the first of many for today, I am sure,” Kili mused from his other side.

“The second,” You reluctantly admitted with a cringe.

“Second?” Fili chuckled, “You do work quickly.”

“Yes, well if your uncle would trust me enough to walk, I would not be so clumsy,” You frowned as you looked back to the fire, “And maybe I would not keep falling on him.”

“You fell on him again?” Kili asked with wonder.

“Did I say that out loud?” You looked to him with embarrassment.

“Yes,” Fili replied cheerily, “Oh, you are truly a gift, [Y/N].”

“Oh god,” You shook your head, “This is going to be long day.”

“More than you know,” Fili offered, “You know, we are going to be climbing those cliffs and I’ve heard you have a penchant for falling off of them.”

“Ha,” You scoffed with a roll of your eyes, “Well, then let us hope this one is fatal.”


	8. What the f*** is an orc?!

You sat against the cave wall, your bag at your side and Thorin at your other. You could not help but shiver as your clothing remained damp from the endless rains and your heart had still not stopped racing from your near death experience upon the stone giants. Your teeth chattered against your will and Thorin grumbled beside you with irritation.

He had once again tied your ankles back together although tonight you would not be forced to be alone in his tent while he questioned you. Instead, he had dragged you over to the far corner and dropped your bag rather rudely beside you before he had laid down with his back to the wall. His feet were right beside your leg and you remained sitting up as it was much more comfortable than laying atop your wrists.

You heard the subtle noise of light footsteps, almost discernible in the cave and you spotted Bilbo’s small figure as he crept through the night. If anything you could relate to the hairy-footed creatures; he too was victim to Thorin’s loathing, though at least he was not bound like a carcass. You listened intently at the hushed conversation he was having with Bofur and you frowned; the hobbit should not let the dwarf king get to him so. Though you could admit that was a hard task; barely three days and you would jump at the chance to leave.

A sudden rumble came from below you and you barely let out a yelp before the ground gave out and you were falling once more. You crashed into Thorin mid-air and cringed, knowing if you survived the drop, he would not forget that. You spun heavy through the void as you arms and legs were withheld by the ropes and you landed on your back atop several other dwarves before a great weight crashed across you.

You opened your eyes and found your face covered in a mass of dark waves before they were finally pulled away, the hair tickling your cheeks. You groaned as you rolled off the pile of dwarves and onto the ground. Your ribs were even more sore than before and you could barely breath; Thorin was heavier than you could have anticipated.

As you sat back on your heels and waited for the mess of dwarves to be sorted out, you realized that their was more chaos erupting than you knew. You watched as the slimy creatures seized the dwarves still atop the great trap and only then figured out that you had unknowingly eluded the same fate. Half-hidden by the corner of the trap, you watched as the Company were fought into submission and dared not make a sound.

As the crowd of dwarves and unknown creatures trailed away, you looked around yourself and tried to come up with a plan. Should you try to help them or should you worry about yourself? You would be free of Thorin and his questions and his ropes…well, the ropes were still there. Yet, the others did not deserve whatever it was they were being dragged towards.

You spotted your bag which had bounced towards the edge of the landing and you carefully and quietly hopped over to it. As you neared it, you heard a scratch across the stone behind you and turned to come face to face with one of the bony creatures. It ran towards you fiercely and you had no defense against its tackle. Unfortunately, the creature did not seem to consider that you had been standing right by the edge.

You fell backwards as your feet crashed into your bag and it was knocked into the void with you as the creature clung around you. You struggled as much as you could in its grasp as you fell and the two of you twisted in air. As it was, you could accept that you would not survive this fall or the creature’s capture. You turned once more in air, the motion causing your head to spin before you were suddenly stopped by the ground.

Rather, the creature was and you merely crushed it further against the sharp rock. You rolled off of the slimy being and your bag landed heavily where you had just been atop the creature. You maneuvered yourself around on your back as you toed the thing wearily, though you knew it had to have been dead. Its demise was the only thing that had kept you from the same, though you had a few more aches to add to your collection.

You climbed to your knees and elbowed your bag off of the creature’s torso before looking along its bony figure. At its waist, hung an aged curved blade and you sighed with exasperation; it would have to do. You turned so that you could reach it with your bound wrists and wiggled it out of its hold with little effort. You flipped the blade up so that you could hook it below the rope around your wrists and slowly sawed through the thick material. Finally free, you cut the ties at your ankles easily and allowed yourself a relieved sigh.

You stood, stretching your arms and legs, before you grabbed your bag and slung it across your back. You looked up to where you had fallen from and frowned; there was no way you could get up there. The sound of clattering rocks came from your right and you looked to where the echo barreled along the dark tunnels. You truly did not want to see what had caused the noise but you really had no choice at this point.

You clenched the curved knife in your hand and stepped towards the dark caverns, listening for any further sound of disturbance. An eerie silence surrounded you, though distant echoes and clatters came from other tunnels. You were absurdly lost and you were sure you would parish down here. One turn after the other, you became more convinced of your impending death and that you would never see the dawn. Which as you could tell, would be just about now.

The light ahead assured you of that and you nearly shrieked with joy as you realized you had found your way out. The sound of a decrepit voice held you back as something shrieked down the tunnel behind you and a sudden gust whipped past you. Unwilling to see who was calling, you sprung towards the opening and into the dull light of the low dawn sun.

You ran into the slanted forest ahead, the decline forcing your feet forward and giving you momentum. You did not know if you were being followed but you were not going to wait around and find out. You finally stopped yourself by a tree as your breath burned in your lungs and you could hear deep voices. You slipped behind the next tree and peeked around to find the Company gathered in a small opening.

You listened as Thorin began to complain of his missing burglar and you were at least glad he had forgotten about you. You could go right now and never be noticed. Movement caught the corner of your eye and you looked over to find Bilbo hiding behind another tree and you sent him a rueful smile; he had heard everything that gruff king had said.

Bilbo stepped out from behind the tree with a grim look and approached the dwarves who went silent at his sudden appearance. You could not bring yourself to emerge from your own hiding spot as he said his peace; at least he had something to offer the Company and he was not a prisoner. You knew you should leave before it was too late.

You looked back behind you and saw distant dark figures descending down the slop and even more fearsome creatures were headed your way. Your mouth dropped open as you gripped your knife tighter and elicited a pathetic squeak. You stepped out from behind your tree and rushed into the clearing, unable to think.

“What the fuck?!” You began, startling the dwarves who had been focused on the hobbit, “There’s things!”

“Things?” Thorin and Dwalin looked over as they heard the baying, “Orcs!”

“That’s a fucking orc!?” You turned back as one of the gray-skinned creatures neared on his furred-beast and you struck out with your knife just before it could seize you in its jaw, “What the fuck is it riding?!”

You asked the question as you were running away, following the other dwarves who had drawn their weapons and were already on the move. You struggled to keep up with the others as more of the beasts sounded behind you and you were sure you were going to die once more. You watched as the Company began to ascend into the trees and you turned back as you heard a nearing growl.

One of the large furry beasts was heading right towards you and you brought your knife up once more. The blade sunk deep into its neck and the blood spilled down your arm, nearly making you wretch as you left the weapon in its flesh. You turned back and clawed desperately at the bark until you managed to pull yourself up. Fili offered you a hand as you climbed and you were thankful for it; all thoughts were blurred beneath the feel of the blood across your skin.

Your vision was a haze of yells and flame and you barely even noticed as the tree was tipped dangerously on its side. Your breath was all you could hear and you watched as a dark figure walked past you and towards the fearsome creatures with their shiny blades. You reached back into your bag as the dark figure was knocked back upon the ground and retrieved the mace you had save for emergencies.

You were not sure what was going on; maybe it was adrenaline or just your desire to not go out without a fight. Either way, you were following the same path as the dark figure and your vision cleared back to the chaos of reality. Bilbo was fighting desperately with one of the great felines and you were standing in the middle of a warzone. An orc, you were sure that was what they were called, neared and you dodged his blade, nearly stumbling onto your bottom.

You were close to Bilbo and you peeked back to the dark figure across the ground and realized it was Thorin. Despite everything, you had the urge to help him and to be honest, you were helping yourself. You turned back to the orc as he neared once more and you raised your canister of mace, spraying it upwards. The creature hissed and screamed as he dropped his weapon and clutched at his burning eyes.

You stepped back as it staggered before you and swung its arms out blindly. Your foot met something uneven and you looked down to find your heel atop Thorin’s great silver sword. You bent down and retrieved it from the dirt, apologizing to the king in your head; though many more would no doubt be owed.

The orc’s arm came dangerously close and you swung the heavy sword before you, slicing through the skin of its forearm. You brought the sword around again and left a large slash across its stomach before staggering backwards. The blood splattered across your face and you shuddered at the sensation of the warm liquid. The orc slowly fell to its knees as you watched with a cringe and you raised the sword once more, sure another enemy would take its place.

Instead, you were swept suddenly off your feet and you squeaked as you were caged within the large talons. You could not understand what was going on but stilled yourself upon realizing it was likely better than the orcs. You clutched Thorin’s sword tight and closed your eyes in an unworthy prayer, hoping that the bird carrying you was not bringing you to a worse fate.


	9. Freedom! '90

You were laid down with surprising care my the giant bird and you thanked whatever deity it was that had seen you safely down. Your hand was still tight around Thorin’s sword and you could not bring yourself to release it. You were still on edge and the weapon was your only solace; other than the half-empty can of mace in your pocket. You sat down near the drop-off of the cliff and looked out to the colours below, listening to the shuffle of dwarves behind you.

 _Why had you even gone out there and done that? All that blood for what?_ Thorin was likely dead and he would never trust you besides. Though, maybe now, should he miraculously wake up, he would let you go and you could get lost trying to find your way home. You heard a sudden change in tone and turned to find the dwarf king back on his feet, smiling at the hobbit who had save his life.

You allowed yourself a smile, happy that Bilbo had done well and that he would be staying with the Company. You had not talked to him much but he had always been nice to you and he never been anything less than helpful. The chatter silenced however as Thorin looked over your head and the other dwarves followed suit, nearing the edge beside you. You followed their gaze to the dark mountain in the distance and wondered what it meant.

You pushed yourself up and backed away from the edge, the sword in your hand bringing you back to your wits. You looked down at the bloodied silver and bit your lip nervously. You took a breath and slowly neared Thorin as he continued to look into the distance, lightly tapping his shoulder.

“Thorin,” You chanced meekly, “I’m sorry I took your sword. Here.”

“What?” He turned to you as his eyes shone, “Oh, uh, you are still here.”

“Yes,” You held out his sword and he took it after a moment, “I am. I cut the ropes because I fell–” You cringed at the memory, “I fell, as usual, I know, and I had–”

“Don’t,” He curtailed any further explanation, “I understand. You did what you had to.”

“You do?” You crinkled your brow in confusion.

“Yes,” He was not frowning like he usually did, “And from what I have heard, you helped Bilbo save me. Foolishly, I must say.”

“What?” You glanced over to Bilbo, “I didn't—I only…”

You looked to your still bloody hands with a wince and lowered them, not wanting to stare at the dark stains further. You returned your eyes to Thorin and tried to hide your discomfort.

“Look, I didn’t do anything special,” You shrugged, “And if you want to find more rope–”

“More rope?” He replied incredulous, “You are the most clueless person I have ever met. Not to mention uncoordinated and clumsy and careless.”

You looked down at your feet as he began his rant and prepared yourself for the onslaught which was coming.

“And a fool,” He added and you suddenly felt yourself wrapped in something, looking up to find his arms around you, “I am sorry for being even more of one.”

“Wha–” You began as you let him hug you awkwardly, “Okay?”

“No more ropes,” He released you with a smile which had your eyes even wider, “Or questions.”

“Uhhhh,” You let the confused noise leak out, “Alright, then. Thanks?”

“And who is this one then?” A bearded man asked as he towered behind Thorin, “Have you been making new recruits?”

“Not as such,” Thorin looked back to the old man, “This is [Y/N]…she stumbled upon us after Rivendell.”

“Stumbled is not the right word for it,” Fili added with a chuckle.

“Call it what you will,” Thorin grumbled at his nephew, “I suppose it will not hurt to have her around.”

“No, I shouldn’t think so,” The tall man bent to look closer at you, “Good things come in small packages.”

“Ah,” You raised your brows at peculiar compliment, “Thank you.”

“Forgive me, dear,” He straightened up as he stroked his beard, “I am Gandalf. I am here to help.”

“Oh, okay?” You were still lost, “With what?”

“You’ve not told her of your quest?” Gandalf turned to Thorin.

“No,” He sighed, giving you a brief glance before looking back to Gandalf, “I didn’t know if I could trust her.”

“Well, then,” Gandalf nodded as he adjusted his pointy hat, “Allow me the pleasure.”

* * *

“Wait, wait, wait,” You said as you walked along behind the two royal brothers, “You two are truly princes? I thought everyone was calling Thorin king in a sarcastic manner.”

“Well, we do,” Fili offered over his shoulder, “But don’t tell him that.”

“I heard that,” Thorin called back from where he was consulting with Dwalin along the line of dwarves.

“Hmm,” You stifled a chuckle, again wiping your hand subconsciously on your pant leg, “I always thought princes would be more…”

“More what?” Kili lifted a brow as he looked back at you.

“Um, posh?” You could not think of a better word, “Like William and Harry.”

“Who?” Kili asked perplexed.

“No one,” You shook you head, “Nothing, don’t worry about it.”

You silenced yourself as you pondered everything the grey wizard had told you. You still could not believe that he truly was a wizard and you were sure he was kidding with you.  _Yet how else could you explain Thorin awaking from what was surely the throes of death?_  You rubbed your hands against your jeans once more and looked down at the scarlet stains which marred your flesh. You shuddered as you remembered the warmth of the blood as it had settled on your skin and how you had slain the creatures.

“[Y/N],” Fili’s voice brought you from your macabre trance, “Are you alright?”

“Y-yes,” You lied as you looked up to him as he walked backwards cautiously, “I’m fine.”

“Hopefully we find somewhere for you to get cleaned up soon,” He looked up at the dark walls of black stone.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” You tried to hide your hands in your pocket, “I hope so.”

“You know,” He continued lightly, turning back around and stepping back so that he walked beside you, “You’ve got more.”

“What?” You widened your eyes.

“Right here,” He pointed to your jaw, “And here,” He hovered his finger along the bridge of your nose, “Really, it is just all over.”

“Oh,” You felt the dried blood along your jaw as he watched, his smile slowly fading.

“I did not mean to upset you,” He quickly asserted, “I was only teasing.”

“I know, I know,” You lowered your hand guiltily, “I just—I never…You know, killed anything before.”

“Oh, well…it is always difficult,” He offered sympathetically, giving a small pause, “You truly haven’t?”

“No,” You answered defensively, “Why would I have? I’ve never had a reason, not that I ever thought I would.”

“It was only–” He took a deep breath before continuing carefully, “It is not that I thought Thorin was right about you, but I didn’t know. You could have been anyone.”

“Hmm,” You frowned, looking back to your red hands, “I guess it’s only a fair assumption. A girl falls out of the sky…”

“And everywhere else,” He mused lightly and you looked up to his kind grin.

“Ha,” You allowed yourself a small chuckle, “Yeah, I’m not the most graceful of people,” You quirked your lip in a half-smile, “And I’m sure I’ll have many more chances to prove that.”


	10. In the Garden of Good and Awkward

Running had never been your strength and the last few days had only reminded you of that fact. With a pack of orcs in close pursuit, there had barely been a moment to walk, let alone to sit down, and your lungs were permanently burning from the excess. Thus it was that as you came in sight of the lone wooden home it seemed a wondrous haven from those at your heels. The wargs were only part of your problem now as a humongous bear had appeared and Gandalf ushered the Company towards the towering oaken gates.

You crashed into Ori’s back as you clawed at the wooden door which would not budge. Your exhaustion had stripped what was left of your nerves and all you could think to do was pathetically join the struggle to flee the enemies closing in behind you. The sound of heavy wood against iron groaned and the doors suddenly fell inward, the dwarves streamed through frantically as you found yourself bowled over in the crush and once more upon the ground, barely rolling clear of the boots of the others.

You felt yourself pulled up by your knapsack as the great bear roared against the wooden doors and your breath slowed from its ragged panting. You turned as Thorin released your bag and looked down at you bemusedly, his own chest steadily rising and falling as you finally calmed the adrenaline flowing through you. With hands on your hips, you bent forward slightly and cringed at the pang in your ribs.

“I should be thankful that for once you had not fallen atop me,” He mused as he crossed his arms and the other dwarves shuffled around behind him, “Though you’re more fortunate to not have been crushed by the stampede of the rest.”

“Fortunate, indeed,” You agreed dryly and straightened up, your shoulders straining beneath the weight of your bag, “A pack of orcs and a bear at the gates. How very lucky.”

“Hmm, and they say I am grim,” The corner of his lips twitched and he turned back to the dwarves as they milled around the foreign abode, “We’ll have to wait them out here…not that we’ve much of a choice. The barn should do just fine.”

“Our host should be himself by the morning,” Gandalf intoned as he wove his fingers through his beard, “Less…grizzly.”

You cringed at the pun, the old wizard much too whimsical in times of despair. You looked around at the rest, the fatigue of the road showing itself in the sag of their shoulders and the scowls across their darkened faces. You likely looked as poorly and were no doubt in as dire a need of sleep. The thought of laying down seemed a dream in itself and you weren’t sure you would wake up once you closed your eyes.

Your eyes fell upon Fili in your swirl of drowsy thoughts and he smiled at you before he turned and followed a muttering Kili out the door and towards the barn. Perhaps if you followed closely enough, you could find a place close to the two brothers. They had always been friendly, even before you had proven your witless worth, and you were eager to sleep for the first time in days without ropes around your wrists and ankles. As you stepped forward however, you sensed another beside you and looked over to Thorin as he yawned into his hand and kept pace with you.

“Don’t worry, no ropes tonight,” He assured as if he could read your mind, “I almost regret putting you through such an ordeal. But this night, we’ll have hay and four walls. Better than any of us has had in weeks.”

“Mhmm,” You tried to smile but were too tired to do more than quiver your lips, “I’d gladly sleep on a bed of nails if it meant I could get off my feet.”

Inside the barn, most of the dwarves had found a place to rest amongst the lofts of hay and you were disappointed to find Fili and Kili crowded in with Bofur and his brothers and already deep in slumber. Thorin set down his weapons and pack as he went about pile some extra straw for his own bed and you followed suit, tossing your bag to the side. You laid down without much ado, Dwalin on your other side and closed your eyes with a sigh.

The breathing and snoring of the dwarves lulled you slowly and as you rested on the cusp of true sleep, a flash of blood and steel painted the back of your eyelids and your heart leaped. In your flight, you had forgotten all that had occurred and it returned to you all at once. You opened your eyes and lifted your hands to look at the traces of blood still crusted around your nails and the crimson stains upon your sleeves. You had tried to push it away like some horrid nightmare but in your idleness, reality was bitter on your tongue.

You sat up, pushing yourself to your feet as you looked at the slumbering bodies around you. As tired as you were, there was to be no sleep for you here. You bent and took your bag from the ground, glancing at Thorin who was breathing slowly and steadily, content in the throes of sleep, though the deep snoring of Dwalin nearly shook the ground behind you. You carefully stepped over the king and tiptoed through the door, sliding it open quietly and stepping out into the setting sun.

You crossed to the carved bench which stood center in the small square between house and barn and slumped atop it, dropping your bag beside your feet. You set your elbows against your legs and leaned your forehead in your hands, trying to wipe the memories of gore from your mind.  _How had this happened? What dark forces had brought you to such a world? How was it even possible that you should fall into another dimension?_

“Y/N,” A voice came quietly and you had not heard the creak of the barn door as Fili stepped out into the dimming afternoon, “Are you alright?”

“Fili?” You looked up at him, lifting your posture as he neared the bench, “I’m fine.”

“You look dead tired. I thought you’d be sleeping like a log along with everyone else,” He sat beside you with a yawn.

“Yes, well I thought you were already asleep,” You shrugged and avoided his eyes, trying not to focus on the bloodstains on your cuffs, “I just…can’t. I’m exhausted but…I can’t.”

“You don’t have to talk about it, but I think I know why,” His tone was comforting despite its somberness, “It’s hard. I remember when I, well, you know. There’s really nothing I can say for it but I think washing away some of that…” His finger hovered over the dark red crackled across your knuckles, “That’s a start.”

“Sure, but I’ve been trying to wipe it away for days,” You tucked your hands into your sleeves embarrassed, “I don’t think there’s anything else I can do.”

“No?” He stood and took your bag, slinging it easily across his shoulder, “Come on.”

Reluctantly you stood as he stepped past the bench and followed him as he walked lithely towards the broader expanse of grass hidden on the other side of the house. It was as if he had been here before as his footsteps fell down without hesitation and he turned back to take your arm and pull your around another corner of the yard. Between the outer wall and that of the house, a birdbath trickled down below a weeping tree, ripe with amber leaves, and he looked back at you proudly.

“I saw it from the window when we got here,” He explained as he led you to the edge of the stone basin, “I figured the birds won’t mind,” He looked around at the courtyard with a half-grin, “Not that there’s any to squawk at us.”

“Oh…thanks,” You bit your lip as you eyed the clear water, rippled with the constant flow of the fountain, “Really. But you should go lay down and get some sleep.”

“So should you,” He commented and cupped a handful of water in hand before letting it fall back into the bowl, “I won’t until you do so get washed up and we’ll go back together.”

“Hmm,” You looked away and began to undo your jacket, pulling it down your arms before tossing it onto the ground, “You can put my bag with that.”

He set down your knapsack as you rolled up the sleeves of your hoodie and submerged your hands in the cool water. It was almost refreshing as it sent goose bumps up your arms and you scrubbed with your nails until the dried blood flaked away, the silence broken only by the sound of the water.

“Don’t forget your face,” He said with a small chuckle, “It gives you some character but you’ve enough of that without.”

“Oh, yeah,” You splashed water across your face and it was almost cleansing as you bent over the basin. You wiped your skin with your palms and stood with a weak smile, “Good?”

“Good, except…” He stepped closer as he reached out and rubbed your cheekbone with his thumb, lingering only a moment as he backed away with a grin, “Perfect.”

“Thanks,” You said awkwardly as you retrieved your jacket and bag, “I guess we should go back now…I don’t wanna keep you up any longer.”

“Sure,” He shrugged and offered his arm, “But this time you stay and sleep.” He ordered sternly though the humour did not leave his face, “I won’t close my eyes until I hear you snoring.”

“Fine,” You took his arm and rolled your eyes, “I’ll sleep…if only to get you off my back.”


	11. That Classic Uncle Nephew Rivalry

Thorin was nearly asleep when he sensed movement next to him. Glancing over for only a moment, he watched as Y/N climbed to her feet and looked around. Before her eyes found him, he closed his own and pretended to be unconscious as she lifted her bag from the barn floor and crept out through the door. He waited a minute before opening his eyes once more but clasped them shut swiftly as he saw his nephew following the same path as the girl before him.

Once Fili had passed through the door himself, Thorin allowed himself another look around the snoring barn. He stared at the exit as his brow furrowed and he wondered why the two had crept out so silently. It was as if they had planned it, though Y/N’s tossing and turning had more suggested she had been restless rather than awaiting some secret rendezvous. Besides, he knew his nephew well and he knew he was not the type to hide. Why would he keep such a secret from Thorin anyhow? 

Thorin sat up and slowly rose to his feet, looking over at Dwalin who was snoring as loud as thunder; the roar having kept him awake enough to sense the departure of his neighbor. He sighed, his mind racing already as he walked the same steps as his nephew and eased the barn door open before stepping out into the setting sunlight. He only caught a glance of his nephew and the girl as they walked around the corner of the house and it only fed his curiosity and the rising, inexplicable sense of paranoia.

Keeping his footsteps soft and steady, he strode in the same direction and slowly approached the corner of the house as he heard the faint trickle of water. Staying close to the façade of the house, he leaned forward until he could see around its corner and he espied Fili and Y/N standing beside a stone birdbath. The girl was scrubbing her hands the basin and his nephew was watching wordlessly, though the look on his face said more than he ever could. Thorin hid himself quickly as he felt his heart racing yet clasping all at the same time. 

 _What did he care if there was affection between them?_ His nephew was a young prince and she was not an unattractive woman. Yet she was not nobility, or at least there was little evidence to suggest otherwise. Even as he made the argument in his head, he knew it to be false. Her lack of title was not the reason for the weight inside of his chest.

Thorin dared to peek around the corner once more and the sight he encountered had him stuck in place. Fili’s thumb brushed across Y/N’s cheek and for a moment she looked down shyly; coyly, even. The king pulled back again so that he did not see what came next; he would not be able to bear it. He reprimanded himself as he leaned against the wooden exterior of the house and closed his eyes. 

She was just some girl who had fallen on his head. She meant little to him. She meant even less to his journey. He was fighting for a mountain not her. He was old and Erebor was all that was left to him. How could he ever expect…It was nonsense. He should not have even been having such thoughts. For Mahal’s sake, he had tied her foot and hand and treated her as he would an orc. He had cast his lot long before.

Shaking himself from his self-pity, he pushed himself from against the house and quickly lumbered away. There was little thought in finding his way back to the barn and before he had realized it, he was laying in the hay with his face shrouded beneath his dark waves. He just wanted to sleep. To sleep and forget about everything. The Mountain, the orcs, the Company…Her.  _Damn it all to Mahal._

* * *

Fili strapped his pack to one of the ponies allotted to the Company by the skin-changer, Beorn. Even if it were only a temporary loan, he was grateful for the steed and to get off of his feet. There was only one problem facing the dwarves and that was that they outnumbered the ponies by at least two. A few of them would have to double up and most did not relish that prospect. Dwalin was the least likely to do so and had already made sure that everyone else knew.

Fili looked over at his brother, about to offer to share but his eyes were drawn to a lone figure standing apart from the rest. Y/N gripped one strap of her bag and chewed on her lip as she kicked the dirt, looking away from the dwarves. He could tell she was little more comfortable among them than the day she had fallen on Thorin’s head. He stepped away from his pony but was met before her by his uncle who appeared to have noticed her apprehension as well.

His uncle cleared his throat as he noticed him and his blue eyes were unusually dark as he looked to Y/N. She turned to them as if sensing their presence and a smile began on her lips but stopped halfway as she looked from one to the other.

“Hey,” She mumbled with a curious lift of her brow.

“Ahem,” Thorin cleared his throat and Fili could sense and unknown tension resonating from him, “I figured you need someone to share with…seeing as it makes the most sense.” His voice was awkward and Fili had never known him to be so, “I mean, you wouldn’t take up much room and Dwalin already said he refuses to share.”

“Oh, uh,” Y/N glanced to Fili and back to Thorin, “Of course, but um, I don’t know,” She rubbed the back of her neck, “Do you think I should come along…You’ve taken me this far and…maybe I should look for my own way home. I don’t want to hold you back.”

“Hold us back?” Fili interjected as the suggestion pricked at him, “You saved my uncle and you wouldn’t have made it this far if you couldn’t hold your own. Besides, how could you ever find your way home without us to pick you up?”

“Hmmm,” She shot him a dry look as she thought, “I suppose but…”

“Come with us,” Thorin gave the command like the king he was, “After we reach the Mountain, we’ll help you get home. You’re safest with us.”

“Okay,” Y/N agreed hesitantly, “Thanks.”

“I’ll take your bag then,” Thorin offered as he held out his hand, “We leave shortly.”

“Right,” She nodded and passed Thorin her bag, “Thanks, again.”

Thorin turned, shouldering the bag and his blue eyes found Fili’s, his features sharpening into a scowl as he stepped past his nephew. Fili watched him go over his shoulder wondering what was bothering his uncle but quickly turned back to Y/N, forgetting the anxiousness growing in his stomach.

“My uncle beat me to it,” He chuckled nervously, “I was going to offer you a ride. Erm, I mean, to share.”

“Yeah, I got that,” She grinned at his jumble of words, “Thank you for at least thinking of me.”

“Always,” He replied without thinking and held back a cringe, “How are you doing?”

“Im…fine,” She shrugged and looked around evasively, “As good as I can be. I just feel so lost here.”

“It’s easy to feel lost so far from home,” Fili offered kindly, thinking of the Mountain he would glance for the first time in his life were they successful, “Especially when you’ve never had one.”

“I’m sorry,” She winced and rubbed her cheek, “I forgot…I guess I shouldn’t complain so much.”

“Complain all you want,” He tilted his head as he edged closer to her, “You’ll fit right in for that’s what dwarves do best.”

“Oh,” She smiled but her eyes were drawn over his shoulder and he followed them to find his uncle glaring from beside his pony, “I guess we should go before he comes back to drag me over.”

“I guess so,” Fili assented reluctantly; that morning he had not much opportunity to speak with Y/N as she had been shouldered in at the table by Thorin and Dwalin and Kili had been rather talkative, “Come on, then.”

He turned and walked beside her as he looked towards Kili who had tied his pack alongside his own. Perhaps it was fate that Thorin had asked Y/N first for his own brother did not have the grace of consideration. With a final grin in her direction, he patted her arm in farewell and joined Kili as she veered towards his uncle. 

He wondered why Thorin was so eager to share his pony.  _Had his paranoia returned over Y/N? Would he again be binding her at night and growling at her every breath?_  Fili worried for her but he knew she could take care of herself. She had done quite well thus far, even if she were a bit clueless.


	12. The trees are out to get us

It seemed everyone was going mad but you. Gandalf had left the Company at the outskirts of the dark forest and upon entering the shrouded trees, the dwarves and hobbit had begun mumbling and looking around as if they were surrounded by unseen enemies. Before passing between the twisted trees, Bofur had mumbled something about them being cursed but you felt completely normal as you walked along with the others.

Glancing over at Kili as he clung to his brother’s arm, his eyes were glassy and crazed much like the others and met yours with a fearful glint. It was fairly obvious that there was an air of insanity to the forest but for some odd reason, it had no effect upon you. Rather it was the Company which fueled your own anxiety and you worried that none of you would ever make it out of the trees. Your home was somewhere out there but so was theirs and it sent an empathetic twang through your chest to think they could lose it all over again in a single moment.

Then, you were certain you had been infected by the leaves as giant spiders streamed down from above and your greatest fears came to life. You had always had a special aversion to arachnids and the sight of the eight-legged beasts had you stumbling over your own feet. You turned and nearly barreled over Ori as your ankles were suddenly restrained. Looking down, the glossy web began to spread across your body, wrapping its way up you as you fought to keep from your impending entombment.  _A nightmare, indeed._

Your wits did not return to you until you were slipping through the air and landing on the forest floor with a soft thump. You broke through your cocoon with your fingers, pulling the web away from your eyes as you watched the others cut free of their own with silver blades. You lacked any such weapon and so all you could do as a spider came skittering towards you was roll out of the way. Another’s pincers almost closed upon your arm as you did but it was pushed back by the sudden flash of metal as Fili placed himself between you and the arachnid.

You caught your breath as he implanted his blade deep in the spiders back and it fell limp to the ground with a sharp whine. Fili turned to you as he reached to his belt and pulled forth a thick-handled knife, holding it out to you as his eyes burned with adrenaline. “Take it. Use it.”

He gave a final nod as he whipped around to bat back another spider and you spun out of the path of another, slicing away one of its legs as you did. It was pure instinct keeping you alive as your movement was awkward and untrained, every stab and block fueled by the urge to live. Those around you were evidently more skilled and it was of little surprise that you found yourself on your back, fighting off one of the over-sized creatures.

The spider went limp before your knife could pierce its flesh and it was pulled from you with a force that sent the dirt around you into a cloud. You squinted up as Thorin knelt beside you and glanced over your body with concern. His recent terseness had you surprised at the glimmer of worry and the kindness of his hand on your shoulder, “You alright? You bit?”

“No, no,” You waved him away and he pulled your up by your elbow, “I’m fine. Just…spiders.”

A whistle went through the air followed by many more and clash of steel and flesh, a sudden flurry around you as looked around frantically. You were no longer surrounded by just spiders; in fact, the creatures all lay lifeless around you as towering men stood before you, weapons drawn and aimed in your general direction.

Thorin stepped forward and growled at the blond leader who held his bow taut and primed for release. You looked to Fili as he stepped up beside you, shouldering you subtly to the back in a protective manner, “Elves,” The word slithered venomously from Dwalin.

“Those are elves?” You grimaced at the tall figures and groaned, “Is that bad?”

“Very,” Fili answered without looking away from the new foe, his grip on his sword tightening, “These are Mirkwood elves.”

* * *

“Where are you from?” The blonde elf asked once more as he stood outside your cell.

“For the last time, I’m not from around here,” You crossed your arms at the stubborn prince, knowing the only reason he frequented your door was to keep an eye on the redhead at Kili’s.

“So you say,” He finally looked down at you, “My father isn’t that gullible and neither am I.”

“From what I’ve heard of him, I don’t care much for his opinion,” You grumbled and rolled your eyes, “Now please, go drag her away from him or just leave me alone.”

“Don’t care, eh?” He replied challengingly and reached to his belt, the keys jingling as he lifted them to the door, “We’ll see about that.”

“Hey, what are you doing?” You backed up in your cell until you were against the stone wall, “Get away from me.”

“Oi, what are you doing?” “Leave her alone.” “Ay, you elven prick!” The dwarven voices sounded from the corridor, Thorin and Fili most noticeably, though Dwalin’s growl surprised you most as he had yet to show you an ounce of concern.

“Quiet,” The elf ordered dully and grabbed your arm, pulling you from your cell forcibly as you tried to dig your heels into the floor.

“Get your hands off of her!” Fili’s arms shot out from between the bars next to your own and Thorin gripped at his own, knuckles turning white as a low rumble sounded from his lips.

The others looked out from their own prisons as furious as the rest and you desperately reached for Fili’s hands. Your fingers grazed his as you were yanked away, nearly lifted off your feet by the elf and you squeaked in surprise. Forced to turn away as your feet were dragged along the floor, you fought with all your might against the unbreakable grip of the elven prince. Ahead of you was another interrogation and this one would likely be harsher than that you had faced against Thorin.

The dwarves continued to shout after Legolas as he led you away and he muttered under his breath in a language you did not understand. Your chest began to pound as the voices of the Company faded with distance and you had to fight not to shake as you fear mounted. You had no idea what you would face next but judging by Thorin’s angry reaction the previous night, you were certain it would not be pleasant.

You were stopped outside a splendidly carved set of wooden doors and they were opened promptly by the two stoic elves who stood vigil before them. Inside, a perilous walkway led to a throne of twisted branches upon which sat a silver elf which resembled the one standing at your side. The elven prince continued onward with you still in his grip and shoved you before him as you reached the base of the pale king. What could only be mistaken as the king of Mirkwood looked down his nose with discerning eyes as he turned to you, his posture straightening upon his seat.

“And what is this you have brought me, Legolas?” He slithered with a hint of a smirk.

“This is the one I spoke you of. The stunted woman who travels with those dwarvish beasts,” You looked to Legolas sharply with offense before your eyes once more returned to the king with dread.

“Mmm, I am familiar with dwarven woman and I can confirm that she is not of their stock,” He stood slowly yet not without menace, “If not a dwarf, what are you?”

“Human,” You replied dully, “What else would I be?”

“Born of man, I think not,” His silver eyes gleamed, “Much too small for that.”

“Small? I don’t consider that an insult though your tone would suggest otherwise.”

“Human’s stand twice as tall as you, my dear,” He bent to look at you straight, “So I ask again, what are you?”

“Where I come from, I’m considered human. Here? I don’t know,” You shrugged, the tension growing as you looked between king and prince, “What does it matter?”

“So, then, where are you from?” The king stood upright and turned his back to you as he awaited an answer.

“Not from here,” It was the best answer you could give, “To tell the truth, I’m trying to figure out how to get back to where I came from.”

“And the dwarves? You expect them to help when they cannot even find their own home?” He looked over his shoulder with a taunting grin, “Good luck with that.”

“They’ve kept me alive this far,” You argued as you frowned darkly.

“And here you find yourself locked away with them…because of them,” He replied so swiftly it was as if he knew what you were going to say, “Tell me, I cannot imagine Thorin was so welcoming of a stranger. How ever did you gain his trust so quickly?”

“He’s not so bad,” You pushed away the memory of nights spent with wrists tied, “I can see why he would be wary after dealing with you.”

“Oh,” The king turned suddenly, stooping once more, “And you presume to know me. To know elves. Or dwarves? Let me assure you, were they to reach Erebor, they would surely forget about you at the sight of the gold within…were they to ever rid themselves of that dragon.”

You stayed silent as you mulled his words and tried to deny their truth.  _What proof did you have that they would help you once they reached the Mountain? What reason did they have? But what would these elves do? Lock you up forever?_  Your options were limited and you had more reason to trust those who had risked their lives for you than those who kept you imprisoned. Those who you had come to see as friends and you had no others in this foreign world.

“Ah, I see it now,” Thranduil spoke as he straightened once more, “You care for them? Maybe one more than the rest?”

You looked away as you pondered his suggestion, though it was not only one that came to mind. Fili who had been the only to greet you with warmth and had kept you alive through the chaos. Or Thorin. He had been cold at first, an enemy even, but as of late, there had been a change. A storm you were yet to see through but he was not the same distrusting king. They were truly your friends, weren’t they? As the others surely were, too. Kili, his brother’s shadow had never shied away, and Bofur, always the clown had been more than kind, and those other dwarves who had proven hospitable despite their rough reputation.

“Bring Thorin,” The elven king commanded devilishly as your thoughts returned to the present and your face fell; you needn’t worry, the dwarven king could fend for himself, yet your stomach still roiled.

Legolas nodded with a grin of his own and marched away lithely as you waited in silence, staring back at the elven king who preened triumphantly. “King Thranduil,” He offered in a lofty tone, “I apologize for the lack of introduction.”

You looked away as you crossed your arms and tried to ignore his gaze.

“It is customary to exchange one’s name for another,” He prodded and you glanced back at him reluctantly.

“Y/N,” You mumbled, your mouth bitter as anxiety crept up your spine. You were to witness the meeting of two stubborn kings and it seemed you were to be caught between them. Dread filled you as you waited in silence, bracing yourself for what would follow Thorin’s arrival.


	13. The King of All Mothers

The wait for Thorin’s arrival felt infinite. Between you and Thranduil, there were few words exchanged as you fumed and he preened. Your mind, underlined with anger, ran wild with ideas of what the elven king had planned for you and Thorin. Amidst you flurry of thoughts, you couldn’t help but pause and wonder if Thranduil had been right in his guess.  _Did you care for Thorin more deeply than you should?_

The dwarven king  _had_ dragged you through sleet and across mountains with your hands and feet bound. It could be argued he had treated you as poorly as Thranduil did at that very moment and yet the experiences were wholly disparate. The elven king staring at you with his serpentine eyes was stone incarnate while Thorin was more; he was a river which flowed from a pool of tragedy and betrayal which had turned him to ice. The king of Mirkwood, however, stood unbending and unfeeling like a tree which grew leaves just to spite the sun.

Thorin’s voice came muffled from the corridor and your body seized as you listened to the opening of the door and the scraping of stubborn boots. With dread, you turned to watch as Legolas dragged him forward and the dwarven king looked little impressed by the elven hands upon his person. Ripping himself away from the prince, Thorin reared on him with a deep growl. The pale elf seemed surprised by the wordless threat and stepped back instinctively.

“You may leave, son,” Thranduil advised with a lilt, “I can handle the dwarf on my own.”

Reluctantly, Legolas directed a slight bow to his father before deliberately turning on his heel and marching away. His footsteps were the only sound which filled the cavernous chamber and the snap of the door followed shortly, leaving you alone with the two kings. Already, they were glaring at each other and Thranduil had grown even more sinister as he watched his foe.

You inhaled without a sound as you looked from one to the other and waited for the levee to break. You rubbed your fingers together anxiously before suddenly you were wincing at the suddenness of the elven king. He had turned sharply and was headed directly for you and you barely took a step back before he latched onto the front of your jacket. You clawed at his hand in panic and were pulled around on your feet as he spun to stop Thorin with a flash of silver.

From within his robes, Thranduil had bared a small silver blade and it was aimed directly at Thorin’s nose, keeping him at bay as you were trapped in his clutches. Thorin raised his hands helplessly as he retreated, his blue eyes wavering towards you as he gulped. The tip of the slender knife was then pointed straight at your face and your hands shook as they tried to grasp Thranduil’s fingers.

“Tell me, Thorin,” Thranduil began as he kept you easily in his grip, “Where in Middle Earth did you find this creature?”

“Let her go,” Thorin’s voice was sonorous but stony, “She’s not done anything to you.”

“She’s not done anything for me, either,” The elven king argued with a slight smirk and the knife touched your flesh, the cold metal grazing your cheek lightly, “Though she can be of some use…You care for her. I can see it in those pathetic eyes of yours,” Thorin squared his shoulders and remained wordless, “I never expected you could feel anything in that dwarven heart of yours…tell me I didn’t spoil the surprise? She does know, doesn’t she?”

“I care for her as I do any member of my company,” Thorin argued but his voice was unsteady, though his hate for Thranduil was likely the reason, “If you must hurt someone, hurt me.”

“If I don’t, you surely will,” Thranduil challenged and looked down at you as he bent closer, “You’ll drag her to that Mountain and let the dragon incinerate her alongside the rest of your buffoonish company.”

“I’m taking her home,” Thorin replied evenly as he neared and Thranduil placed more pressure behind the knife in warning, “We will find a way out of here…but if you hurt her, I’ll do you worse.”

“You’re not in much of a position to be making threats,” Thranduil pressed harder and you felt the bite of silver and trickle of blood as he sliced across your cheek, “I’ll do as I please in my kingdom…and so will you.”

You gritted your teeth against the pain as he removed the blade and you felt the blood running down your face. You looked to Thorin, his fists clenched along with his jaw as he breathed deeply and you could tell he was fighting to keep his temper. Thranduil kept his hand on your arm, holding you near as he waited for a response; outrage, anger, insult. He thirsted for the dwarven king’s ire but none came.

“Ah, you mustn’t be so fond of the girl as I thought,” Thranduil mused as he wiped away the blood with a finger and held it up with admiration, “You see,” He looked down at you triumphantly, “He’ll do just as much when you’ve got a dragon spitting flames at you.”

“Fuck you,” You spat as pain began to pulse in your cheek.

“Oh,” He seemed bemused at your anger and pointed his knife to Thorin, “And if I take the king and ply my blade to him, would your tongue be so careless?”

“She would not flinch,” Thorin’s voice came solemn and unexpected, “She does not care for me. Not as you think she does.”

You could not help but raise a brow as you stared at Thorin, confused at the meaning of his words. You did care for him, enough to see him unharmed, but had you deluded yourself into thinking you had gained any sort of trust from him?  _Did he still think you an enemy?_

“Thorin, I…” You made to protest but your voice died as Thorin stepped closer.

“Please, do not hurt her further,” He pleaded gently, “Do what you will to me but let her be. “

“Thorin…” You began again but his eyes fell on you and gave you pause.

“Take her,” You were suddenly shoved by Thranduil and collided harshly with Thorin who barely kept you from toppling him, “I think I’ve made my point clear. Consider what we discussed in our previous meeting and think hard. I’d hate to defile the girl further.”

The elven king dismissed you with a wave of his hand and the doors were suddenly opening behind you as the attendants without seemed to have sensed the end of your meeting. Thorin slowly separated himself from you and motioned you forward as you were escorted out of the chamber. You looked at Thorin, his profile icy as he walked beside you silently.

“Thorin, I do care for you,” You said softly, “Even after everything…you’re my friend, aren’t you?”

“Friend?” He pondered the word wistfully, “Yes, if that is what you would have us be.”

His answer unsettled you but you could not figure out what you had done wrong. Back in the forest he had not been so unkind, he had even risked his own life for yours.

“Thorin,” You were stopped outside your cell but turned to the king instead, “What did I do?”

“Nothing, Y/N,” He reached up with and wiped the blood from your cheek with the cuff of his sleeve, “I’m sorry Thranduil cut you…it’s my fault. I never meant for you to get hurt.”

“Don’t let him keep you from going home,” You nearly whispered, “Not even–”

“Enough,” The attendant interjected harshly before you could finish as he waited beside your open cell, “Get inside before I drag you.”

Heeding the blunt warning, you gave one last apologetic look to Thorin and he merely turned away in silence and waited to be placed in his own cell. As the door was closed in your face, you tried to glance into the king’s cell but the angle did not allow for it. Your eyes were drawn away by movement across from you and you looked up to find Fili at the bars of his door.

“Y/N, what happened to you?” He asked with concerned shock, “Are you alright?”

“I…don’t know,” You replied as you reached up to feel your cheek but it was not as painful as the unknown feeling brewing in your chest as you turned away.


	14. Elves Suck!

You sat in your cell, running your fingers across the rough scab which was forming across the deep gash along your cheekbone. The skin was tender around the wound and you were sure it would do little to add to your physical allure. It had been two days since your interview with Thranduil and since you had heard nothing from Thorin, not even a grunt. Fili whispered to you at night, trying to extract the story of what had happened in the throne room, but you knew his uncle would hear everything you said. So, you kept silent and hoped for some miraculous savior to free you from your cell.

Your wishes always seemed to have a sardonic way of manifesting as you heard keys jingling and sliding against metal. You looked up to your door to find Legolas once more unlocking it and you pressed yourself to the wall as you remained sitting. The bars swung outward and he stepped inside, looming above you but making no move to draw you out.

“Oi, you leave her alone!” You heard Fili yell from across the corridor followed by the protestations of the other dwarves. Among them, you could tell that Thorin did not lend his voice.

“You just wait for your turn,” Legolas spat over his shoulder before looking back to you, “How is your face? My father has sent me to see there was no infection.”

“Your father?” You scoffed as you covered the gash with your fingers, “Why don’t you go tell him to–”

“I advise prudence guide your words,” He knelt before you with a smirk reminiscent of his father, “For he has also requested your presence.”

“Is he going to even this out?” You dropped your hand and scowled, “No thank you. I’d rather stay here for the rest of my cursed life.”

“I am afraid you haven’t a choice,” He shrugged and stood, turning to glance out the open door and you heard indecipherable grumbling sounding from Fili’s cell, “But I will give you one: you can come of your own volition or I can drag you out, as I did last time. Keep in mind how your resistance affected your last meeting.”

“Still not much of a choice,” You uttered and gulped back your anger, “I’d rather you keep your hands to yourself,” You slowly climbed to your feet with the aid of the wall, “Your father, too. If you could inform him of that–”

“If you would refrain from your mockery, he may just let you go unscathed,” He warned as he motioned you to precede him out of the cell.

You stepped out into the corridor, much brighter than your cramped cell. You met Fili’s blue eyes for an instant as he watched from the other side before you noticed the elven guards waiting silently. There were far too many to be concerned merely with the likes of you. As your mind began to race, Legolas tossed the keys to one of the dozen wardens and the dark-haired elf unlocked Thorin’s door wordlessly.

“What is going on?” You asked but received no answer, “What are you doing?”

“Just you wait and see,” Legolas teased and his eyes fell on Fili as he growled in Khuzdul, a language he had taught you a few words of in secret, though you understood none which now flowed from his mouth, “This one, too. I am sure my father would not be opposed to a second Durin…a prince, even.”

“Aye,” Kili’s voice came from behind you as he watched from his own cell, “You leave my brother be!”

“Ki, it’s alright,” Fili assured in a measured voice as he watched the guard unlock his own cell, “I promise.”

“Quiet,” Legolas hissed as the two Durins were led from their cells and restrained pre-emptively by the guards, “You dwarves talk too much.”

You looked from Fili to Thorin, both with the same irritated frowns. They shared too an air of anxiety at what came next and it made your own dread even worse. Both had always seemed so unfazed and yet now, faced with the prospect of Thranduil, their veneers began to crack.  _Why would they be so afraid of the elven king?_

When the guards harassed them, they merely spat and growled as they had with any foe. Even during your first meeting with Thranduil, Thorin had seemed unaffected until the knife had been drawn, along with your blood. Perhaps you were getting in the way of their quest. After all, you were not very adept at taking care of yourself in these foreign lands and many times they had thrown themselves into danger for your sake.

With doubt in the back of your mind, you walked behind the Durins and between elvish guards as you were led down the same path as only a few days before. As you had expected, the throne room doors greeted you and were opened swiftly, your escorts ushering you inside with wordless shoves. Along with your fellow prisoners, you followed Legolas as he approached his father’s throne, the king reclined as if he had not called for you.

Thranduil’s silver eyes swept over Thorin and Fili passively until they found you. Despite yourself, you were trying to hide behind the dwarves, hoping that the elven king would forget about you. As his focused on you however, you realized that you had not been brought as a mere oversight. His gaze burned into you and he waved away the guards who obediently left through the tall doors.

“Legolas, I believe we still have other prisoners,” Thranduil slithered as he sat up in his throne, “Make sure Tauriel is not still lurking at their doors.”

“Father–” Legolas made to protest but his father’s sharp look tangled his tongue, “Yes, father.”

The elven prince gave a subtle bow of his head and turned on his heels, avoiding a glance at you and the Durins. You listened to his footsteps retreat with dread and swallowed back the fear bubbling in your stomach. Being left alone with Thranduil once more was surely anything but a good omen.

“Y/N,” Thranduil called across the airy chamber, “If you would kindly step forward.”

“What do you want with her?” Thorin and Fili asked in unison and looked to each other with surprise before returning their attention to the elven king.

“You will see soon enough,” Thranduil smirked as he flicked his fingers in a gesture for you to emerge from behind the dwarves, “Though my son did not inform me why he brought an extra dwarf.”

Fili huffed and shook his head and you stepped past the Durin’s, both setting reassuring hands on your shoulders. It was as if they were of the same mind or maybe they were just as nervous as you were. You stopped just in front of them and Thranduil raised himself from his seat with a devious sneer. You inhaled deeply and tried to hide your trepidation.

“You,” Thranduil spoke over your head, motioning to Fili, “You are no doubt of Thorin’s stock.”

“My nephew,” Thorin answered for the prince and tension built behind you, “Fili. Heir to the Mountain you betrayed.”

“I believe he can speak well enough for himself,” Thranduil intoned, “If he is of your blood, he surely cannot lack for words.”

“Surely not,” Fili quipped, “Though I’d doubt you’d appreciate any I have for you.”

“Likely not,” Thranduil’s eyes returned to you and you could not help but squirm, “Let us not lose focus. Y/N, you look to be healing well.”

“As if you care,” You snapped as he examined your cut, “What do you want?”

“Many things you couldn’t possibly give me,” He simpered as he spun and his robe whipped behind him, brushing against your front, “But you will be useful, nonetheless.”

You looked over your shoulder at the Durins who returned your gaze with concern, latent anger glowed behind their eyes. You turned back to Thranduil as he settled once more on his throne, an elbow upon the arm as he watched you with unsettling interest. You rubbed your arm nervously and bit your lip, waiting for whatever torture he had in mind for you.

“I do not think it fair that you are to pay for the crimes of dwarves,” Thranduil announced as he rested his chin in his hand, “To let you relish in those cells with such creatures, it is not becoming a lady.”

“Lady?” You echoed with confusion, “What?”

“I have requested the presence of Thorin,” He continued as if you had not spoken, “To assure him that I have no underhanded machinations in mind for you, I merely would offer you what he cannot; freedom.”

“Freedom?” You wondered dumbly.

“A measure of,” He corrected himself and raised his head, “I am sure you know how to balance a tray and walk a straight line.”

“Despite your low expectations, I am not a complete moron,” You snapped and he chuckled bemusedly.

“Great,” He preened, “And to assuage any doubt Thorin may have about your treatment, and Fili too, I suppose, you may start right away.”

You were entirely confounded but you could feel both Durins bristling behind you as they shifted in their boots. You exhaled slowly, grimacing at the elven king as he grinned at you crookedly. 

“I seem to be out of wine,” Thranduil touched the crystal goblet upon the table beside him, a full pitcher alongside it, “Y/N?”

You stood silently staring back at him, riled that he would expect you to act as his servant. You crossed your arms and clenched your jaw, “I would rather the cells.”

“I have worse punishments,” He threatened, “I could add another blemish to that pretty face…”

“Y/N,” Fili whispered as he touched your elbow, “Do as he says. Please.”

You swallowed your pride as you pulled away from Fili and slowly inched forward towards the throne. You steeled yourself under the elven king’s constant gaze and climbed the set of steps which led to his branched seat. You rounded to the table and focused on lifting the jug and pouring the plum-coloured liquid into his glass. You set down the pitcher heavily and looked up at him with a defiant tilt of your head.

“Well,” He goaded, “Hand me my glass.”

Narrowing your eyes, you lifted the crystal goblet and stepped up to the side of his throne, holding it out to him dully. He took it from you and sipped from it with an embellished slurp, handing it back carelessly so that what remained of the wine sloshed onto your fingers.

“Your manners need work,” Thranduil admonished, “It is traditional to approach a king with a ‘your majesty’, and a bow never hurts.”

You looked to the Durins who had only grown more indignant and you let a subtle sigh slip from your lips. You turned back to Thranduil and lowered your head reluctantly, mumbling “your majesty” with distaste.

“I’m sorry, even my elven ears could not hear that,” Thranduil mused, “What did you say?”

“Your majesty,” You repeated bluntly with a glare.

“Very good,” He commented smugly, “I think you’ve found your calling.”

“You cannot do this,” Thorin’s voice was malicious, “She is not a slave.”

“You would rather her a prisoner?” Thranduil tempted wryly, “What a noble king you are.”

“She belongs with us,” Fili avowed, “Better the cells than bending her knee to the likes of you.”

“Oh ho,” Thranduil chortled and looked to you with some unknown revelation, “I see. Well, in this realm, you are no prince. And Thorin, you are no king.”

“You foul elvish–” Fili made to charge at the elven king but his uncle caught his arm and held him back, quieting him with whispers.

“Y/N,” Thranduil waved your nearer with his finger, “Come here.” You took a reluctant step forward and he grinned with another slimy laugh. “Closer,” You obeyed, wary that another blade would appear, “Good.”

Before you could react, he leaned over the arm of his chair, his hand grasping the back of your head as he pressed his lips to yours and kissed you sloppily. You fought against his hold as you felt him smirk into your mouth and finally he released you, your elbow overturning both pitcher and glass. A river of wine ran down your front and you backed away from Thranduil, wiping your mouth with disgust.

In a blur, Thranduil had risen and was descending the steps of his throne as if he had not just locked lips with you. Now Fili was fighting to hold back his uncle, thought his own ire was plain, and the elven king approached them brazenly. 

“Don’t be such a fool, Thorin. You’re better to find some common dwarrowdam than to sully her. There is an order to the world, and you best learn it.”

Thorin roared in khuzdul as he struggled against Fili’s restraint, the golden-haired prince trying to calm him. You numbly climbed down the steps of the throne, intent to assure Thorin that you were alright and to keep him from the elven king’s games.

 As you made to pass Thranduil, he seized your arm and held you in place, bending to meet your eyeline, “You go back to those cells, and you’ll never leave them again. Dwarves are not worth your time.”

“Fuck you,” You tore your arm from his grasp and turned stand between him and the Durins, “I’d rather prison than to demean myself with you.”

Thranduil’s large hand struck your cheek so hard that it reopened the gash and you could feel the blood as it began to trickle. You were nearly knocked off your feet by the sheer force of the smack and you whimpered as you brought your hand up to cradle your face. The sound of Thorin and Fili’s skirmish ceased, a thick silence overtaking the chamber.

“You son of–” You turned and blocked both dwarves from pushing past you with an effort, sliding backwards as they tried to reach Thranduil.

“Please,” You could not help the tremble of the voice, “Please, I don’t want him to hurt you, too.”

“But, Y/N,” Fili protested, his voice dying as the tears rose in your eyes.

“Y/N,” Thorin uttered weakly, “I’m sorry, It’s all my fault.”

“How sweet,” Thranduil commented and you looked over your shoulder as he watched with pleasure, “The three of you…what tangled webs we weave.” You remained silent at his assertion, your cheek still burning from his assault, “Go on, back to your cells. I’ve had my fun.”


	15. From Bad to Somehow Even Badder

You sat in your cell, the dim glow of the elvish celebrations coming hazy through the bars of your door. You kept to the back of the small space, leaning against the wall heavily as your face ached. The flesh was tender to the touch and bruised, the cut healing still after it had been reopened by Thranduil’s blusterous strike. It was at this moment that you wondered what curse had brought you to this foreign land.

In the weeks before Mirkwood, you had first been too preoccupied with Thorin’s ire to worry about finding your way home. And when you had won over the obstinate king, Fili had made you forget that you were lost as he helped you find your way among the strange lands. But it had all caught up with you and suddenly you were missing all you had left behind. _Why did you have to go for that hike and fall of that cliff?_  Maybe you really had died that day.

Both Durins, uncle and nephew, had tried to speak with you upon returning to your cells but you were too humiliated to respond.  _How come it burned so much worse to have Thranduil demean you than Thorin marching you through mud and muck with arms bound?_  Maybe because you knew the dwarf had reason to distrust you and was not doing it for his own twisted satisfaction. Or maybe you had convinced yourself of that.

Whatever it was that had brought you here was a purely masochistic force. If the pain and discomfort wasn’t enough to convince you of that, the drama was.  _Was it all in your head that Fili and Thorin were growing bitter towards each other?_  Thranduil had alluded to as much and it had become plain in the throne room that there was some tension there. Yet, you could not be sure it was because of you. Perhaps, it was a classic case of male egos as the Mountain loomed closer and frustrations ran high.

The jingle of keys shook you from your self-pity and your door was wiggled as a figure appeared on the other side. You were certain it was Legolas come once again to subject you to the dark wiles of his father and dread rose in your stomach. To your relief however, it was a face you had not expected to see again as Bilbo pulled open your door and peered in at you.

“I’ve come to save you,” He whispered with a devilish smile before turning to unlocked Fili’s cell across from yours, the dwarves he had already freed trailed behind him in a shuffle of murmurs, “Be quiet, or this will all have been for naught.” The hobbit warned as he reached Thorin’s door and slid the key in.

As you followed the Company through the hushed corridors, Fili came up beside you and touched your arm. His nose brushed your ear as he whispered to breathlessly, “Are you alright, Y/N?”

“Now’s not the time,” You avoided his question as you weren’t sure of the answer yourself, “Come on. We’ve got to get out of here.”

Bilbo led you, as if by chance, to a room of empty barrels which were conveniently dwarf-sized. He turned and wiggled his nose before he announced his plan and the dwarves reluctantly began to stuff themselves into the thick casks. You watched with arms crossed, all energy sapped from you as you pondered the road ahead. _What would come after this?_  If you were to believe the stories, a dragon, and you were loath to prove them true.

“Y/N,” Thorin jolted you from your anxious thoughts as he looked down at you with his deep-blue eyes, “There’s a barrel for you, too. We’ve got to hurry.”

“Uh, yeah, yeah, I know,” You kicked yourself into action and brushed him away, crossing to an empty barrel and wriggling inside, “All good.”

“Y/N…” He began but the sharp look you gave him kept his next remark unspoken, “Alright, you lot,” Thorin climbed up into a wooden cylinder, “Bilbo, get us out of here.”

Bilbo hovered on tip toes before spinning and looking around for an escape. His eyes sparkled as he approached a lever and pulled it with a grin, the floor beneath the barrels tipping and the cask rolled and splash through the floor into a pool below. Bilbo slid down afterward with a holler and you were pulled forward as the other dwarves began to maneuver their barrels through the water.

Soon you passed from beneath the palace and into the bright sunlight as the current picked up and you were suddenly sailing down the river. Your barrel crashed into the back of Thorin’s as you spun to a stop against the gate and chaos was breaking out all around you as arrows and steel flashed just beyond the bridge. Kili climbed from his vessel and crashed back down into it as the gate opened and you were released into the rushing waves as orcs and elves chased you along the shore.

Kili gasped in pain as his barrel wobbled on and you tried to direct yourself towards him to see if he was alright. Fili met him first and held onto his barrel for only a moment before catching an axe thrown to him by Dwalin who had downed an orc just beyond. You struggled to keep yourself from tipping as you crashed through the water and kept your head low, unable to do much more against the assault.

Peeking over the rim, you found that the Company had evaded the elves and orcs and you stood in relief, a sudden pain rippling through your shoulder as you descended a small drop. Barely able to keep upright in your barrel, you let yourself be carried by the current, dazedly keeping track of Thorin just ahead of you, his wet hair sleek with moisture. Your vision blurred as you gripped the edge of your barrel and a shale-covered shore appeared in the distance.

You reached up to touched your shoulder, sending another wave of agony through your body. You felt the arrow shaft just as your barrel collided with another and you squeaked. You tipped over at last and let yourself be swallowed by the water as blackness seeped across your vision, succumbing to the blinding pain.

* * *

Thorin tossed his heavy hair away from his face as he looked around at the sodden dwarves climbing through the rocky shallows. Among them he did not see the one figure he had been looking for and panic began to bloom in his chest at once. He searched around for Fili who he found dragging his wounded brother from the water and sitting him on a ledge.  _If Y/N was not with his nephew, where could she be?_

He looked back to the water and saw the back of her pale blouse as she floated among the barrels, he hair fanned out across the ripples. Dark blood stained her shoulder where a shaft had stuck her and Thorin rushed into the water, pushing his legs against the resistance despite the burning in his muscles. He reached Y/N and turned her over, taking her in his arms carefully and rushing back to the shore.

She set her down on the shale, making sure not to push the arrow deeper into her flesh. He kept her against himself as he called for Oin and checked with his fingers for her pulse. The grey-haired medic appeared, his clothes dripping with water, and he bent before the girl as the rest of the Company crowded around to see what was the matter.

Gasps and chatter began as the dwarves watched Oin kneel beside the girl and listen for her breath at her lips. He motioned for Thorin to lean her forward and he clapped his broad hand across her back just below the arrow jutting out of her shoulder. She coughed and water erupted from her lips as she threw her head back and groaned, her eyes opening in a pain-tinted haze.

“Y/N,” Fili knelt before her feet and his uncle shot him a glower of resent, “Y/N?”

The girl did not answer as her head lolled and the bruise across her face seemed even darker as her eyes closed and the cut began to bleed once more. Oin had Thorin lean her forward once more as he grabbed the arrow firmly and counted in Khuzdul before pulling in from her flesh, stemming the blood with a damp rag.

“Keep pressure on the wound,” He instructed the king, “Or she’ll bleed out. I’ve got to tend to Kili, but she should be alright. Long as that didn’t get her lung, but if she’s lasted this long, it’s a fair chance it missed.”

Oin stood and turned to look for the wounded Durin still upon the ledge clutching his leg. Fili reluctantly rose as his eyes remained on Y/N for a moment before sensing the heat directed at him from his uncle. Thorin glared at Fili, his own nephew, and shook his head, “Go see to your brother,” He commanded darkly, “I’ll take care of Y/N.”

Fili looked as if he would speak but instead he swallowed his words and slowly turned away. His shoulders set as he began to walk away and Thorin lowered his gaze to Y/N as she remained unmoving in his arms and he kept his hand steady upon her shoulder. He lowered his head over her, his hair falling forward in a cascade and he began to pray to Mahal. 

He asked that Y/N would wake up and that she should survive. That he should help her find her home as he had promised. Most of all, he prayed she did not love his nephew, though his doubts told him otherwise.


	16. Left Behind

You woke up slowly, your shoulder stiffened by excruciating pain . It was so grey when you opened your eyes that you were sure you had been returned to your cell in Mirkwood. Only the light of a low-burning fire glowed in the unfamiliar chamber and you looked around at the dwarven bodies cluttered across the damp wooden floor. Wherever you were, you were glad you had not been left behind.

You reached up to touch your clammy forehead with your palm and movement came from beside you. It was only then that you noticed Thorin beside you, leaning against the side of a wooden counter which marked the divide between living room and kitchen. He bent forward and even in the dim, his blue eyes glowed with concern.

As you tried to sit up, his head rested on your unscathed shoulder and shook his head, “Don’t. You’ll tear your stitches.”

“Thorin, what happened?” You rasped through your dry throat,

“You took an arrow in your shoulder,” He explained in a low voice, “I—We did our best to sew you up but it’ll take some time to heal…though you’re faring better than some.”

“What? Who?” You looked around worriedly and he once more stopped you from rising.

“My nephew,” Your heart picked up at his words, “Kili. His leg. Oin did his best to help him but he is feverish and shows signs of infection.”

You dwelled on the somber tones of Thorin’s voice and glanced down at yourself, a loose tunic had replaced your shirt and rolled up pants hung from your legs. You were glad to be relieved of your well-worn clothing but would have preferred better-fitted garment. Thorin’s hand remained on your shoulder but you did not shake it off. The pressure was comforting in the dark of the strange new place.

“How far to the Mountain?” You asked quietly.

“Not far at all,” He smiled despite his woes, “All we have to do is sneak out of here unnoticed and we’ll be home…well, in Erebor.”

“Yeah? That’s amazing,” You commented as you recalled that could not see your own path home, “I can’t wait to see it. I’ve never been to a mountain.”

“Truly?” He pondered, removing his hand as he laid down beside you, “Well, it is a sight indeed. Dark at first but once we have the forges burning again,” He settled down with his head on his arm, watching you as he rested upon his side, “In the winter, the sky looks so near you’d think you could touch it, and in the summer…”

There was a peculiar quality to Thorin’s voice and his eyes seemed even more blue as he gazed over at you. You could not quite place it as he chattered on but you had never heard him sound so content. All he had ever talked of was his duty and all the trouble which awaited him. Even as he paused to yawn into his hand, he sounded so animated and you let yourself float into the scene he was painting with his words.

“Thorin,” You squeaked amidst his ramblings, “Am I dying?”

“What? No,” He raised his head with a frown, “Are you feeling unwell?”

“I feel fine,” You answered with a snicker, “I only ask because you’re being so…nice.”

“Am I not nice?” He wondered aloud as he turned onto his stomach and cradled his chin in his hand, “I have been trying.”

“No, no, I mean, you’ve been worse,” You teased, “I just…I don’t know. Forget I said anything.”

A silence permeated the chamber as you exhaled and brought your hand up to rub your cheek, the flesh still tender from the remaining bruises. You cringed and pulled away your fingers, letting your head fall to the side so that you were looking up at Thorin as his eyes never left you.

“Y/N,” He quavered, “I’m sorry about what happened in Mirkwood. It was all because of me. Me and my petty grudges…I never meant for you to get hurt.”

“Thorin,” You kept him from his apology, “It’s not your fault. Thranduil, he, uh, didn’t seem like a very reasonable person. I wouldn’t blame you for his cruelty.”

“And mine?” He ventured softly, “I was little better. In the beginning.”

“That’s behind us now,” You waved away his regret, “You saved my life. If you hadn’t tied me up and dragged me along. I wouldn’t have made it this far.”

“I didn’t have to tie you up,” He looked down, lowering his arms and resting his head upon them, “I didn’t have to be so mean. You’re just a woman. Lost and far from home. I should have listened to Fili.”

“Fili?” You echoed curiously.

“Oh, he gave me advice I should have listened to sooner,” Thorin explained and closed his eyes, “But I just want you to know that I am sorry and I do regret how I behaved towards you. You should know in case…well–”

“You’ll be alright,” You let your head loll and looked back to the ceiling, “Thorin, you’ll get your Mountain back. It will all be fine.”

“Hmm,” Thorin sighed, his breath warm across your cheek, “I hope you’re right…but we cannot know until the morrow.”

You took Thorin’s cue for silence and closed your eyes. There were few words you could offer to calm the king’s misgivings. You knew less of what lay ahead than him and you had proven yourself useless time and again when faced with the dangers of this world. You only hoped that you could do a little to help Thorin and his Company reclaim their rightful home.

* * *

Fili smiled over at Y/N as she stood among the line of dwarves, her face still sallow beneath the dark bruises as she shivered against the chill rising off the water. He had been relieved that she had at last woken though he still worried for his brother who seemed to only be getting worse. Some other unknown doubt twisted in his chest and yet he could not place it. Perhaps it was the knowledge that a dragon awaited them just beyond the river.

Whatever it was, it burned deeper as he looked to Thorin, his uncle not so grim as usual. He wondered how he could be so lively knowing that they were soon to face Smaug. The way he neared Y/N and looked her over delicately, smiling as he spoke some unheard jape which brought a chuckle to her lips, all caused Fili to seethe. But the joy did not last as the king’s next words left Y/N confused and shaking her head.

“What? You can’t be serious?” She exclaimed loud enough for all to hear, “Thorin, I’m fine. You said it yourself.”

“You’re still healing,” He asserted as he brushed past her, walking towards Fili, “You’ll stay here. With my nephews.”

“Uncle?” Kili sounded hurt as he spoke, not that he didn’t appear to be in sheer agony, “Please, you cannot–”

“Well, I am,” Thorin narrowed his eyes, “You three, stay here. Come to us when you are well. When the dragon is gone.”

“Thorin,” Y/N spouted in irritation, “Don’t leave us behind.”

“I’m not leaving you  _behind_ ,” He corrected her sharply. Fili marveled at how he could be so nice one moment and so entirely cold the next. “I’m keeping you safe. Alive. Now, I won’t argue further.” He turned to Fili who was scowling back at him, “Fili take your brother and Y/N. Kili needs tending still, see to it.”

“Uncle,” Fili sighed, knowing that any argument he had was futile but persisting nonetheless, “The Mountain is our right as it is yours and you would keep us from it?”

“Enough,” Thorin hissed, “You will reach the Mountain in time. I’ve waited longer than you’ve been alive to reclaim it, do not presume to lecture me on your impatience when I know it better than you ever will.”

“Thorin–” Fili snarled but was silenced by a warm pressure on his arm, Y/N’s hand calmly place upon his shoulder.

“Go, then,” She ordered in a hushed voice, “But we’ll come as soon as Kili’s better. Even if it’s in the next hour.”

“Hmm,” Thorin considered her, his expression softeningly slightly as he nodded his ascent, “Very well. We’ll meet again in Erebor.”

“Safe travels, Uncle,” Kili nearly spat as he leaned on his brother, watching his uncle walk away with resent.

Fili shook his head as he turned away from the scene of dwarves packing themselves into boats, their borrowed armour clinking and creaking as they did. His uncle seemed to be intent on opposing his every thought and move. Perhaps it wasn’t the dragon burning him so deeply, maybe it was another fiery miser.


	17. How about that ending?

Kili laid across the makeshift bed, his head lolled as he shivered in a frigid sweat. You watched him intently, your hands cupping your cheeks with worry as you wished for the expertise of your homeland. If this was your world, they surely would have some cure for whatever infection had taken hold of the prince.

Fili hovered around his brother with Oin and they struggled to figure out how to tend to the ailing Durin. Bofur crashed through the door with a vial he was bid to retrieve from the local apothecary, his hat crooked over his pigtails. Stumbling over his hide boots, he offered the glass bottle to Oin who uncorked it and wrinkled his nose.

“You dolt, this will only kill him faster,” He tossed the vial against the wall so it smashed, “Can’t you do anything right?”

“Oi, the old grouch said this was all he had,” Bofur frowned and neared the shaking prince, “Isn’t there anything we could do?”

“We’ve done all we can…unless…” Oin pulled Bofur close and instructed him quietly, sternly pushing him away, sending him once more scrambling through the door.

A silence arose around you as you stepped up beside Fili as he stood over his moaning brother and you touched his shoulder gently. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” He hung his head, “If my brother–”

“Shut up, Fili, I’m not going to die,” Kili interjected before another pained whimper overtook him.

Fili sighed and turned around, leaning on the bed frame with an anxious grimace. He crossed his arms as you looked to Oin tapping his toe as he waited for Bofur to return. A sudden creak sounded above and the grey-haired medic looked up slowly, his eyes widening as the door crashed open and Sigrid burst inside screaming.

An orc appeared behind her in the doorway and you joined in her exclamations as you scrambled for any sort of defense. Fili threw himself into one orc as another tried to enter but fell lifeless with an arrow in his back. You exclaimed as you pushed the children towards the back of the house and took a plate from the counter, whipping it at another orc as he smashed through the window.

Legolas dropped suddenly from the ceiling and your first instinct was to chuck a plate his way but he was more help against the orcs than you were. Kili kicked himself away from an advancing orc, soon disposed of by Tauriel, as the dwarf fell to the floor frantically. You were in shock as the two elves danced around, dispersing of the orcs with their blades swiftly.

Fili shielded Sigrid from an orc as you pulled Tilda from the path of another and you found yourself pressed tight to the golden prince and human girl as the space was crowded with feuding bodies. He looked to you amidst the chaos as you tried to catch your breath against your pounding heartbeat. The orcs began to retreat with foreign shouts and you released the trembling girl in your arms as your legs gave out weakly.

“Y/N,” Fili knelt beside you with worry, “Are you alright?”

“Yes, yes,” You heard Kili groaning across the room, “I’m just…I wasn’t ready. Please, go check on your brother.”

Reluctantly, with a gentle squeeze of your arm, Fili stood and returned to his brother who was being placed upon the table. His head was cradled in a bowl of walnuts as Tauriel look down at him in dismay. You could tell the elf cared for the dwarf despite herself and you felt a kindred bond at that moment. How easy it was to be caught up with Durin’s blood.

Bofur who had walked in amidst the fury of the attack popped up with a hand of green sprouts in his hand, his hat hanging limply around his ears. You clutched your hands together tightly as you watched the others congregate around the sickened dwarf and you hoped that the orcs would be the worst of the night.

* * *

The screech had ripped through the silence and the torrents arising from the flapping of the great dragon’s wings followed with frightful effect. Looking out to the streets of Laketown, the night glowed orange and Smaug flew over the city, plying his flames to those below. Buildings began to catch and screams pierced the night, sending a shudder through you.

Frantically, those in the house began to twitter and the dwarves clattered around in a fervor. The children’s eyes widened and you tried to stay calm as the sight was almost too fantastical to believe. You turned and motioned to the door, yelling for the children to get out as the others followed course. Stomping out into the chill night, you followed the three frightened children down the steps, the rest of your group at your heels.

Tauriel led you to one of the empty boats, ushering you inside as she took to the bow after kicking it into motion atop the water. Floating down the narrow canals, several parties had similar ideas and the vessel was soon bumping against others crowding the narrow waterways. As the flame spread around you and screams built to deafening pitch, the boat tipped severely to one side and you found yourself hallway over the edge.

The dwarves and children rushed to the other side of the boat, trying to keep it from capsizing as you held on, your feet dragging in the water. Fili was the only to reach out to you, holding tight to Bofur’s arm as he latched onto your hand. You clutched onto him desperately as the cold began to spread up your legs and the stitches in your shoulder strained painfully.

“Y/N,” Fili pulled you back inside with a grunt and you fell to the bottom of the boat, causing him to land atop you, “Y/N, I got you.”

The others shuffled around you as Fili pulled you up and kept hold of you as you shook against him. “I’m fine, I’m fine.” You assured him as he helped you regain your balance, “Thank you.”

“Any time,” He vowed with a smile and you looked away as your cheeks coloured.

“Bain!” Sigrid called after her brother as the boat wobbled and the boy sprinted onto a wooden dock, “Where are you going?”

The younger sister held her back and you tried not to jump from the boat yourself. To think that such a young child would be lost to such destruction, that Bard should lose his son. You frowned and felt a hand close around yours. You looked up as Fili held your hand firmly, too weak to pull away. His blue eyes searched yours and once more you turned your glance from his.

As burning pillars fell around you in fiery avalanches, you tried not to shriek and Fili’s grasp kept you from panicking. At the same time, you thought of Thorin and worried about what had become of him upon awakening the dragon. If he was dead…You had told him it would all be alright and you hadn’t even said goodbye.

The bow of the ship cleared the burning city and your shoulders fell as Fili’s thumb rubbed across your hand comfortingly. You looked up at him with anxious eyes, unable to think of words. Sitting upon the bench of the boat, you could barely hold yourself up as your mind flashed with pessimistic dreams of the fate of the others.

At last, you reached the opposite shore, a deathly silence having overtaken all in the boat. Tilda and Sigrid stepped out first, followed by Oin and Gloin, then Tauriel and Kili as they bickered in low voices. You remained sitting as you could not find the strength to rise and Fili stayed beside you, still holding your hand.

“Y/N,” He said quietly, “It’s alright. It must be. The dragon has gone from the Mountain and we saw him fall.”

“Fili,” You shook your head,  _I just want to go home,_  you could not say the words but you felt them in your heart. “You saved me.”

“You don’t need saving,” He snickered, “Not the way you throw plates.”

“Oh, please, Fili, now is no time for jokes,” You hung your head, “We almost died…and what about Thorin and–”

“But we’re alive,” He insisted, “We should be grateful and not waste it”

“Fili,” You frowned as you lifted your head, “All this death…”

“It makes me want to live,” He uttered in a gravelly voice, “I’ve waited much too long to do this.”

“Do wh–” Your next words were cut off by Fili’s lips on yours and your eyes widened as you realized he was kissing you.


	18. The Stubbornness of Dwarves

At last, Fili removed his lips from yours and you sat dumbfounded staring at him. His smile faltered as he looked at you and his blue eyes darkened with dismay. “Y/N? I’m sorry, I thought–”

“No, no, Fili,” You fumbled clumsily as your mind reeled. It was not that you hadn’t enjoyed the kiss it was only that so much had happened so quickly. Your head spun as you thought of the series of near-death experiences of the last few days and those worries which still weighed on your mind. Foremost, was the thought of Thorin who could be dead at that very moment. “It’s–it’s fine. I’m just….a lot has happened.”

 _And what would Thorin think of his nephew kissing you? Wait, why would he care? Why did you?_ You blinked uncontrollably as you tried to wade through your own thoughts and Fili looked even more distressed. He squeezed your hand as he tried to catch your eyes with his and you inhaled sharply as you calmed yourself.

“Look, Fili, I’m just really…confused right now,” You explained shakily, “I fell from the sky weeks ago and since then I’ve faced death on a daily basis. You might be used to this, but I’m not. I can’t just fall into… _this_. Not that I mean, um, anything, really, it’s just. I, uh…” You sputtered at Fili and slowly his expression softened, “I need time.”

“Y/N,” He said without anger, even smiling as he spoke, “I know you must feel lost and I don’t want to make it any harder on you. I only wanted to kiss you while I had the chance. I’ve been dreaming of it since the moment we met. You don’t owe me anything.” He lifted your hand and set in your lap, releasing it reluctantly, “I’ll wait. For as long as you need me to. I just knew if I didn’t do it now, I’d regret it.”

“Thank you, Fili,” You stared at your hands and let out a frazzled sighed, “Really. I’m sorry.”

“Please, stop apologizing,” The boat wobbled as he stood and you looked up to find him offering a hand to help you, “Let’s just go. The Mountain waits for us.”

You took his hand and rose from the bench, letting him guide you onto the shore. Knowing you, you would have fallen face first without his help. You regretted that you could not give him an answer but you did not know yourself what you had felt when he had kissed you. Your heart had leapt but why wouldn’t it when he had caught you so off-guard? Or maybe it had fluttered because you had been waiting for him to do it to. At that moment, you could not say which as your exhaustion left your mind in shambles and you tried to piece it all together.

* * *

The closer you got to the Mountain, the more your stomach roiled. Worse, your shoulder spasmed painfully with each step, the excess of the steep climb waring on you sooner than you had hoped. Passing through the dark passage which led to the interior of the rocky giant, you followed the dwarves as they walked in awed silence. This was their home and deep down, you felt a poke of envy as you saw the wonder in their eyes.

You could hear voices, one clearer than the rest as its speaker issued orders sternly. You smiled at the familiarity of Thorin’s baritone although there was timbre to it which made you uneasy. The clinking of metal grew louder as you neared a light at the end of the corridor and you stepped out onto a walkway which overlooked an expansive hall. You could see the other dwarves as they searched through piles of coins and golden trinkets. You looked to Fili and the others who stood alongside you, their own faces painted with curiosity at the scene.

Thorin spun around, a furred cloak hung from his shoulders and a golden crown sat upon his brow. He looked more a king than you had ever seen him but there was sickly sheen to his eyes which unsettled you. He smiled as he spotted you and his nephews and raised his arms in a regal gesture.

“Nephews, friends,” He announced with a flourish, “Welcome to Erebor.”

Nervously, you turned to Fili who exchanged a wordless look of anguish with you. 

You bit your lip and looked back to Thorin as his focus returned to those among the piles of gold. “Find it! I must have the Arkenstone,” He boomed and you wrinkled your brow in repulsion; he sounded worse than when you had first met him, his voice laced with paranoia.

“What’s wrong with him?” You whispered, more to yourself than to the others.

“Dragon sickness,” Bilbo appeared behind you grimly, “That’s what the others are saying.”

“Dragon sickness?” You echoed breathlessly.

“It runs in the family,” Kili grumbled with a scowl, “We should have known…”

“Would it make a difference?” Fili snorted, “Once Thorin is set on something, there’s no talking him out of it. I’m not surprised at all.”

“Woah, what?,” You were shocked by the malice in Fili’s words, “We have to be able to help him somehow.”

“There is no known cure for it,” Fili rolled his eyes, his demeanour blackening, “Thorin’s always been a fool and now he’ll force us to watch him go mad all while searching for that damned stone.”

“Have a little compassion,” You snapped, taken aback by Fili’s lack of, “You would face orcs without a blade for Kili, but for your uncle? Nothing?”

“Y/N, I don’t mean it like that,” He said remorsefully, “I only—It’s hopeless and I’m tired. All we’ve done this whole way is appease Thorin and bend to his every whim–”

“And he hasn’t done anything in return?” You crossed your arms with annoyance.

“Why are you standing up for him? He tied you up!”

“And then he saved my life! And yours,” You retorted as you tore apart your arms and pointed your finger viciously at Fili’s nose, “And you would sit back and watch him succumb to this?!”

“Y/N,” He pleaded desperately as you turned away, “I wouldn’t–”

“Oh, then what is it you’re trying to say?” You looked down at Thorin, his eyes sweeping the floor with rampant greed, “If you’ll not even try, you’re as good as driving him to it.”

You huffed and brushed past the dwarves and Bilbo, shaking your head as you fumed. Fili was brave and kind but all he had just said had told you otherwise.  _How could he change so suddenly? What had happened to the loyalty you admired so avidly? Or his courage which had never flickered even in the darkest moments?_  Whatever it was, you would have to figure a way to help Thorin on your own.


	19. So this dragon sickness makes you an a$$?

Thorin had been locked up in the throne room for days. Meanwhile, the rest of you had been searching the Mountain for the elusive Arkenstone. Despite his hunger for his rightful gem, you hoped that the king would never find it. You could only imagine him getting worse and as it was, you could barely look at him for the stabbing in caused in your chest.

Notwithstanding, there was an army of elves right outside Erebor, and even that could not shake Thorin from his madness. The air within the Mountain had grown oppressive and all you could do was wish that you were home. Even if you had become attached to the motley company of dwarves and hobbit, you could not help your homesickness.

You watched the looming doors of the throne room, waiting for Dwalin to emerge, hoping he would do so with a renewed Thorin. To your dismay, when he did appear from within, he was alone and his ever-stoic veneer had shattered. Tears were cradled in his eyes and he sniffed as he noticed you waiting for him. Wiping away the moisture, he stopped before you with his shoulders slumped.

“There’s nothing to be done for the king,” He moped, “Not even I can knock the sense back into him.”

“But, but…” You chewed your lip as you thought, “There must be something.”

“He is too far gone,” Dwalin’s voice trembled despite himself, “He’s lost. And soon the Mountain will be too.”

“We can’t give up,” You didn’t know why you were being so persistent but you just couldn’t stand to see it end this way. You could not have been thrown into this world only to have it crumble around you, “Please, let me try.”

“Try what, girl?” He asked with frustration, “I told you, he can’t hear us. All he can see is that damned stone.”

“So, what harm would it be if I just tried?”

“Your own,” He growled, backing away from you darkly, “You go in there and you’re on your own.”

“Fine,” You accepted sharply, “Go on and sulk.”

“Good luck in there, girl,” He uttered somberly as his blue eyes sparkled once more, “You’ll need it.”

Dwalin turned away from you with a grumble and you shook your head at his back as he walked away. These dwarves could be utterly stubborn and yet now, they all gave in so easily. You reached up to rub your cheek, itchy as it had begun to heal and no longer swollen with bruises. Your breath shuddered as you faced the doors and doubt began to bloom in the back of your mind.

You raised your hand and felt ridiculous for a moment before you knocked. If he were as bad as it seemed, he likely wouldn’t even answer. Worse however, was that he did and how. From within you heard his deep voice, laced with poison, “Damn you, what is it this time?”

“Thorin?” Your voice was brittle as you placed your hand upon the door, “I just…wanted to talk.”

“Y/N?” He did not sound so sinister at the realization, “Please, come in.”

Pushing the door slowly, it opened with a low whine and you stepped inside the dim throne room. Thorin sat upon his stone chair and looked down at you, every bit the king he had claimed to be. His paled eyes did not leave you as you neared hesitantly, the heat of his gaze making you uneasy. You stopped near the foot of his throne and looked up at him, trying to hide your nervousness.

“Y/N,” Thorin looked down his nose at you, “Are you well?”

 _I should ask the same of you,_  you thought but instead nodded, “I’m fine. I was only coming to check on you…I haven’t really seen you since I got here.”

In all honesty, it had been of your own doing. You had avoided him every time he had approached you, too afraid to face him on your own. You did not know why you had found the courage now but you would never forgive yourself if you kept running away. Maybe it was merely the recklessness which often came with desperation.

“Forgive me, a king has many duties,” He put his hand on his chest and bowed his head, “Not least of which is finding you a way home.” His voice grew thick as he spoke the last words and he cleared his throat before continuing, “But you understand it must wait until the Arkenstone is recovered.”

“Of course,” You accepted, though inside you knew you were stuck here, “Thorin, it’s nice of you to worry about me but maybe…I should find my own way home.”

“Your own way?” He stood suddenly, “Y/N, you said it yourself, you’re not safe without me.”

“I appreciate it, I do, Thorin, but from here…I’ll be fine,” He climbed down the steps of his throne as you spoke, stopping before you with a tilt of his head, “Please, you have better things to worry about.”

“You can’t go!” His voice rang across the chamber, “You can’t.” He looked crazed as his dark brows lowered, “Not yet.”

“I…I have to, eventually,” You had hoped your bluff would have sobered him, but it had only further maddened him, “But I can wait? I was only trying to help.”

“You can help by finding my Arkenstone,” He hissed and leaned down as he held your gaze with his foggy eyes, “If you can do more than fall over your own feet.”

His words stung but you knew they were not his. Thorin was not who he pretended to be; not when you had first met him and he hid behind a shield of obstinacy, and not then as he devolved into insanity. You swallowed your hurt and stared back at him speechless, trying to plot a new way to chase away his sickness.

There had to be something you could do. You thought of all those tales of princesses in endless slumbers and those cursed to towers or those cursed to repulse all who saw them. It was foolish and perhaps a little mad, but no more crazy than the dwarf who stood before you. Even if all you did was useless, you had to try to save him.

Standing on your tip toes and reaching out to place your hands on his shoulders, you pressed your lips to Thorin’s before he could react. All you saw was his eyes widen before you closed yours and put all your faith into the kiss. After a few seconds, he kissed you back and reassured, you pulled away to look up at him.

“Thorin?” You quavered hopefully, but his eyes were still cloudy.

“Y/N,” He breathed duskily and reached out, his hands grasping your arms, “I knew you couldn’t love Fili. I knew it was me all along.”

His hold on you tightened as he leaned in to kiss you again and you tried to pull away from him. Thorin was still sick and you were stupid to think a fairytale kiss could have cured him. All you wanted to do was runaway and cry as you waited for the rest of him to fade away. Yet, there was no escaping him as he refused to release you, fighting to embrace you.

“Y/N,” He moved a hand to the back of your head, forcing you closer, “I know you love me.”

“Please, Thorin,” You pushed against his chest frantically, “I made a mistake, I thought–”

“ _You_ kissed me, Y/N,” He accused, “You can’t just run away.”

“Get off me,” You tried to break free but he was too strong, “Thorin.”

Thorin pushed his lips against yours, his hand buried in your hair as he kissed you roughly. You struggled to breath as panic crawled up your spine, his hand not close behind. His gripped your waist and turned to shove you up against a pillar, snaking his fingers under the hem of your tunic. You bit his lip as your heart seized and he pulled away from you with a grunt, reaching up to wipe away the blood trickling from his mouth.

“I told you to get off,” You stammered, sidling away from him as anger flashed in his eyes, “Thorin,” You dodged him as he tried to latch onto you, “Please.” You sidestepped him again and stumbled backwards for the door, tears of fright forming in your eyes, “Don’t come any nearer or I’ll scream.”

“Go then, you harlot,” He fumed, “Go! Before I string you up myself.”

Horrified by his reaction, you reminded yourself that it wasn’t truly him, but the tears still fell like acid down your cheeks. Turning quickly on your heels, you hurried for the door as you tried to dry your face with your sleeves.  _He was gone. Thorin was gone. And there was nothing you could do to save him._


	20. Behind Bars, Again

You were so stung by your fallout with Thorin that you could not bear to be around the others. You watched from afar as they sat whetting and staring listlessy at weapons they would not get to use while sulking over their king’s tainted condition. When you had returned to the great hall, Dwalin had sent you a knowing look but you could see a rare ting e of empathy in his eyes, too. It did little to help however as you huddled in the corner and longed for home.

For hours, you sat pondering a way back. Perhaps you could jump from the Mountain and return the same way you had come. There may be no Thorin to fall on back home but you might be lucky enough to survive the impact. Your common sense advised you against an attempt and so you turned to other, more realistic deviations.

Leaving the Mountain in the night was a better plan, but just as painful. You wouldn’t be able to say goodbye, knowing that Fili, among others, would try to stop you. The idea of doing so seared your chest but you would have to sooner than later. You had been foolish enough to forget that you could never remain with the dwarves forever. This wasn’t where you belonged, it couldn’t be. Not if it caused you so much sorrow.

Pushing the loose hair away from your face, a dark figure caught your eye. You looked up to the shadow of Thorin nearing the other dwarves as they sat in mourning. His nephews rose with harsh words towards their uncle and he shook his head, bowing with an air of remorse. A flicker of hope rattled in your chest and you watched closely as the king spoke softly to Kili and embraced him warmly.

You were too afraid that approaching Thorin would prove the scene little more than fantasy, so you remained where you were, pulling your knees close. The king approached his other nephew, lowering his voice to whisper as he leaned in to talk directly in his ear. Fili nodded and his blue eyes wandered with unsaid thoughts. For the first time in weeks, the uncle and nephew looked to be at peace.

Your eyes widened as Fili gestured to you and Thorin’s attention followed, resting on you as his lips twitched. Averting your gaze, you chewed your lip and tried to figure out how you would make your escape. Surely, you couldn’t tell them you were leaving, even if the king did appear better. That was, if you could even bring yourself to go.

A pair of square-toed boots stopped before you and slowly your eyes trailed up the set of legs and mailed torso to Thorin’s impenetrable stare. He looked down at you for a moment before bending to squat, trying to make you meet his gaze. Finally, you surrendered and his sapphire-like irises swam with emotion.

“Y/N,” He began in a rasp, “I would understand if you do not wish to speak with me, it seems you can barely look upon me, but if you would grant me the privilege, I would ask that you allow me to apologize.”

“I, uh…” You choked on your own tongue and looked away, clearing your throat, “I suppose.”

“Good,” He gulped and stood with drawn breath, “I was thinking we could, uh…” His voice trailed off as he looked towards Fili who met his eyes and turned away curtly, “We could speak somewhere private? I promise to keep my distance.”

“Private?” You rubbed your neck as you considered his offer, “Are you truly better?”

“I think,” He answered precariously, “I feel better, at least, Like I can see again.”

“Okay,” You accepted in a small voice, “We can talk.”

He smiled meekly, the first you had ever seen him be anything but bold, and he offered you a hand as you made to rise. You took his hand and he pulled you to your feet, releasing you swiftly before motioning you past him. Wordlessly, he led you away from the other dwarves who did not seem to notice either of you, and into a corridor nearby.

Too anxious to ask where he was leading you, you walked silently alongside Thorin as he drew you deeper into the maze of Erebor’s interior. Counting the stones in the wall as you went, you found yourself stopping short as Thorin’s quieted ceased. You looked up to him as you nearly tripped and he seemed to be bracing himself for some impenetrable task.

“Y/N,” His eyes looked over your head before they returned to yours, “I am sorry for what happened. For what I said…and did. I wasn’t myself but that’s not an excuse. The sickness, it had hold of me, it made me think and act against my better judgement. I don’t expect you to forgive me at this very moment, if at all, but…” He inhaled deeply, “But I am of Durin’s blood, blood of this very Mountain, and I will fight. I will lead my company to the battle that awaits and I cannot be certain I shall return home.” His hand hovered for a moment as if he would take yours but he seemed to think better of it, “I know you were only trying to help me and nothing more. That what you did…it meant nothing. I will make sure Fili returns, though. I can promise you that.”

“Thorin?” You were confused at the finality of his words, the implication about his nephew, and the resignation which slumped his shoulders, “What are you—I’m going with you. If you’re going out there to fight, I want to be there.”

“No, Y/N, you have to go home. I promised,” He shrugged as crystalline tears rose in the corners of his eyes, “You’re going to stay and wait. You’re going to  _live_.”

“I’d like to see you keep me from coming with you, Thorin,” You challenged and he shook his head, closing his eyes with a frown.

“Alright,” His jaw tightened as he looked at you and reached out to clasp your arms, “I apologize for this as well.”

Before you could react, he forced you backwards down the corridor, releasing you swiftly before stepping back and swinging a door closed before you. You had been too distracted by your worries to notice that Thorin had led you to the dungeons. You had not even noticed the bars which had stood beside you and you grabbed onto them desperately, shaking the door on its hinges as it locked.

“Thorin, you can’t do this!” You cried, “Please, don’t leave me behind.”

“I have to,” A tear rolled down his cheek as he slowly backed away, “I gave the key to Fili, I cannot let you, even if I wanted.”

“No, no!” You jiggled the bars again, “No, Thorin, please, Please,” You whimpered as Thorin turned away and took a step away, pausing to look back at you greyly, “The day you fell on my head…” He swallowed as cheek twitched, “Goodbye, Y/N.”

He forced himself to turn back to his path and his footsteps picked up as if he feared he would be unable to leave if he stayed any longer. You listened to Thorin’s departure and yelled into the void, the echo barreling down the corridor unheard by all but mountain ghosts.  _What was it he would not say to you? Would you ever have the chance to ask?_ Sinking to the floor against the cold iron bars, you hung your head and shivered. Your heart told you the answer but you were too stubborn to listen.


	21. Off to Battle

You did not know how long you spent screaming down the empty corridor and shaking the bars which stood between you and hope. What was worse than Thorin leaving you alone in the dungeons, was that he had left you in the dark. Without a lantern, the Mountain was a dull grey and you could not know how much time had passed as you lingered there.

In frustration, you slammed your hand against the iron door and turned, kicking the dirt and dust which coated the long-desolated cell. A holler of agony followed soon after as your toe connected with a solid weight, your foot rippling in pain as the stone rolled heavily across the floor. You crouched done to touch your tender foot through your worn boot and gritted your teeth in pain.

Shaking away the agony of your mistake, you reached out to touch the stone you had kicked and felt the roughened surface. It must have been a stone which had fallen away from the mortar during the years of Smaug’s tyranny. Resting your hand on the block, you forgot about your injury and a smile began to bloom as your eyes dilated in the gray of the cell. You may have been clumsy but it seemed your carelessness often worked out for the better.

Using both arms, you lifted the heavy stone from the floor, your back straining at the weight. With effort, you wobbled over to the door and inhaled as you planned your next steps. Counting to five and swinging the stone slowly in your clutches, you released it and it collided with the lock with deafening metallic clang. You stepped back before it could land on your other toe and the door shifted with a sharp squeak.

Holding your breath, you inched forward and pushed on the bars lightly with your fingertips. It moved slightly once more and you nearly squealed in disbelief. _You were free!_  Your jubilation lasted for a mere second before your situation took hold of your once more. Regardless of your escape, you would still have to find the dwarves and amidst a battle, that would be close to impossible, if not suicidal.

Even as doubt nipped at your neck, you pushed through the door and sped down the corridor, twisting and turning through the maze. After getting yourself lost several times, you finally found the great hall empty, the sound of battle streaming in through the open face of the Mountain. The sun lit the chamber in small lines and reflected off the silver blades leaning against the wall.

Racing towards the weapons left in favour of better, you took a sword from among the collection and continued to the next corridor. You knew enough to reach Durin’s door and you burst out into the fading daylight, the noise of bloodshed coming clearer. Looking out across the chaos, you saw legions screaming, crashing, and writhing in the dance of warfare. With a quick glance at the field, you stumbled down the pass and prayed you could find a face you knew among the rabble… _if you survived that long._

As you reached the edge of the throng, many of them twice your size, clashing among the battle, you barely dodged the blade of a twisted orc. You shouted in surprise as the sword barely missed your ear and you spun under the next weapon as it came your way. Weaving between enemies, your speed your only defense, you felt the impending force of a strike would knock you off course at any moment. To your own amazement, you reached the middle of the tumult and spotted Bofur among those struggling to stay alive.

“Bofur!” You shouted as your chest heaved with excess, “Bofur!” You slid to a stop before him and he turned to shove you away from a descending blade, slicing away the hand that held it, “Where are the rest?” You looked around, seeing other members of the company, but five in particular, you did not, “Thorin, Fili–”

“They’re up there,” He answered as he blocked another sword, “On Ravenhill.”

He motioned his chin towards the cliff above and you followed his allusion, staring up in despair as he plunged back into the hordes. You sighed and ducked your head as you continued your path towards Ravenhill. You made it that far, buut you’d have to make it a little further. How you would get to top of the peak, was yet to be determined.

At the base of the cliff, you scurried away from those enemies around you, your small stature saving you from much notice. You set off up the steep, rocky path, the stones slipping under your boots as you struggled to stay upright. As your way became more treacherous, you found yourself using your hand, nearly on all fours, as you desperately tried to keep from sliding backwards.

Pausing for a moment to catch your breath, your innate stupidity stirred within and you looked over the small edge which you stood upon. The sudden vertigo had you pressing yourself snug to the cliff wall and you closed your eyes as panic surged within you. You would have to get over yourself if you had any hope of seeing your friends again but the thought didn’t help clear your mind. Knowing that Fili and Thorin were so far above you and you still had some ways to go helped little and you began to tremble against the stone and roots.

About to resign yourself to the inevitable failure which had a special knack for finding you, you heard a rush of air and something latched onto the collar of your tunic. You were lifted from the ledge and found yourself floating miraculously, opening your eyes to see that you were ever rising higher. You were gripped more firmly as the hand released your colalr only to wrap around your wrist and you found yourself looking up at a familiar figure.

“Legolas?” You uttered as he held you like a child by your arm while easily holding onto the foot of some leathery creature, “What are you doing?”

“Calm down, I’m not here to take you back to Mirkwood,” He grumbled as you rose higher and higher, “I’ve come to help. If I can.”

“What? Why?” You asked as you cleared the top of the cliff .

Legolas didn’t answer but you failed to notice as your attention was drawn by movement and you saw to familiar heads disappearing into a crumbling building. Kili and Fili were gone in and instant and as you circled around the open roof of the temple, you began to struggle against the elf’s hand. “Let me go. Put me down here.”

“No, you’ll get yourself killed,” He argued and held you tighter.

“I don’t give a shit,” You clawed at his hand, “Besides, you didn’t care much when you handed me over to your father. Come on. Let me go. I’ve got to go find them.”

“And when the orcs find you?” He questioned as he stared down at you, the imperious look reminding you of Thranduil.

“My problem, not yours,” You rolled your eyes and he sighed.

“Fine then,” He turned back to the sky and released you, letting you fall just over the hole which topped the ragged temple as he called after you, “It’s your death.”

As you fell through the air, you felt an eerie nostalgia, the sensation of falling all too familiar. Waiting for the inevitable impact of the stone floor, you closed your eyes and prayed you’d be in tact enough to find the Durins. If you were lucky enough, you would also live long enough to get back at Legolas for the crash landing.


	22. Back to Black

You fell through one of the many holes in the collapsed roof, crashing down harshly upon a pile of stone rubble. The shock of the impact knocked the wind out of you and for a moment you feared you had somehow fallen back into your own world.  _Wouldn’t that be just your luck?_ Your vision cleared and you looked around the gray chamber, the walls leaning and crumbling inward. You reached out slowly to retrieve the sword which had clattered from your grip and used it to help yourself to your feet.

You could feel scrapes on your back from the ragged rocks, your tunic little protection and you regretted not grabbing some armor before heading out. The sound of a stone bouncing across the floor behind you distracted you from your discomfort and you turned to find a towering orc entering the chamber. He spotted you and menace formed in his eyes as he adjusted the ax in his hand. You squeaked and raised your own blade, knowing you had little hope against the hideous creature. It was just like Legolas to drop you into the arms of danger.

Slowly, the orc began to close in, a slimy chortle rising in his throat as he found amusement in your fear. Backing away shakily, your sword wavered in the air and your foe spoke in a chilling voice, “I don’t want to hurt you,” He promised, “You’d make a better pet than a corpse.”

With a grimace of disgust, you kept your distance and pondered your escape. Another deep voice came from without but you could not focus for your own dire situation. You glanced over your shoulder, a wide rent in the wall drawing your attention. It was a stark chance but it may just be lead to the next floor. If not you would find yourself falling to your death, but it gleaned better than whatever this beast meant by “pet”.

Looking at the orc just as he lumbered towards you, you scrambled backwards on your heels and without grace, let yourself fall through the fracture. You spun in the air, below a blur of figure coming upwards and your landing was not as severe as your last. Once more, your sword slipped from your hands, this time lodged in whatever you had landed on and you rolled down onto the stone.

Pushing yourself up on your knees to look around, you found Fili glancing down at you in shock as Azog stood uncharacteristically still. Other orcs stood behind him on the stone mantle and all seemed to be frozen with surprise at your unexpected arrival. At last, you realized why the leader of the beasts was not moving as his legs crumpled and he fell to his knees, your sword protruding from his shoulder.

Despite his wound, Azog’s face contorted in anger and swung out with his bladed arm, his arc directed at Fili. Without thinking, you leapt into his path and reached out to stop him, the tip of his curved bladed impaling your hand. You screamed out in pain as you found yourself caught on the orc’s steel and you agonizingly pulled the metal from your hand.

Azog pulled back for another swing, Fili shoving you under it as he landed atop you on the edge of the ledge. Rounding the writhing orc, he pulled your blade from his shoulder and turned and turned to bat away the orc’s next jab, his strength reduced as he remained on his knees. The prince blocked another strike and another, pushing Azog off-balance as the orc weakened with blood loss.

As Azog’s breath came more labored, Fili’s blade pushed past the orc’s and tore through the thick flesh of his torso. Dark blood seeped from the thin line left by the silver and the orc finally slumped, falling onto his side with a groan. Shaken from their shock, the orcs who looked on suddenly flashed into action, coming at the prince with vengeful fervour. Yourself, awoken from your pain and the dramatic scene, you used your uninjured hand to pull the knife which hung from the dying orc’s waist.

You tackled Fili before another orc could slice him with his steel and to your own amazement, plunged your knife into the creature’s knee. Removing it with a spurt of crimson, Fili finished the job and you found a rhythm with your only ally as you faced the half-dozen remaining orcs. Pushed in close, you scurried close to Fili, weaving in between enemies as your kept your bleeding hand against your tunic.

An orc fell over the edge among the struggle and another was felled by Fili’s blade, his skill much more effective than your clumsy attempts. Footsteps and the clang of metal sounded from the within the temple and your heart raced as you were certain more orcs were about to appear. Turn to face them, one of the remaining orcs swung down with their sword and the steel sliced through your tunic and the flesh of side. Pain spread along your stomach, the blade having torn through your abdomen.

You dropped your knife as the orc failed to make another strike, a blade appearing through his own midriff before another struck his neck. Dwalin, Kili, and Thorin emerged from the tunnels as you collapsed to the ground. As you laid across the stone, you realized that the rest of the orcs were strewn along with you, though you had little worry but for the blood now seeping from your side.

“Y/N,” Fili dropped his sword and knelt beside you, Thorin immediately at your other side. You smiled up at them before wincing, convinced that you would never see them again. Fili pulled apart the hole in your tunic and Thorin’s hand pressed warmly against your cold flesh, trying to stem the flow.

“Fili, wrap her hand,” The king ordered his nephew and his other hand pushed the hair away from your forehead, “We have to keep her warm.”

Dwalin neared from behind, offering his cloak while Kili tore a patch from an orc’s woolen jerkin. Thorin took the square of fabric as you felt pressure on your pierced hand, your head growing woozy as you tried to focus on what was happening. Thorin pushed the cloth against the gash in your side before he lifted you and the cloak was spread over you.

“We have to find Oin,” Fili declared as he looked over the drop, “Or the wizard. She’s losing too much blood.”

“Fili, calm down,” Thorin pleaded but sounded less than certain, “We can’t help her if we panic.”

“How did she even get here?” Fili’s voiced was heavy with despair, “You said you’d locked her away.”

“I did…” Thorin looked down at you but your vision began to haze, “I swear I did. I don’t know,” His voice was thin as he began to walk, the movement causing more pain in your side and hand, “I don’t know.”

That was the last your heard or saw as your mind faded from grey to black and your head lolled back over Thorin’s arm. A heaviness descended upon you and you welcomed it as it chased away the torment tearing at your flesh. You were left in darkness, forgetting about Thorin and Fili and the orcs and your wounds. Death was no longer so frightening.


	23. Huh?

You awoke with a start as if you had been falling endlessly. Inside the depths of your mind, all pain had seeped away with the flow of blood and as you opened your eyes, your vision was hazed by the dull ache of reality. You could no longer feel the tear across your abdomen or the hole in your hand, only the heaviness of your head and body. And the shock of your surroundings as they came into focus.

Instead of the grey stone of Erebor and the still air of its corridors, the stringent aroma and white walls of a hospital room greeted you. Your breath caught in your chest and your hand trembled as you lifted it to examine the IV taped to it. Dropping your arm painfully, you looked around frantically and sat up sharply, falling back as your head was overcome with dizziness. A figure moved in the corner and you glanced over to see your mother rising from the single chair.

“Y/N,” She said with wonder and you shook your head, her eyes widening with concern, “Let me call the nurse.”

“No,” You croaked out through your dry throat, trying to sit up with little result, surrendering to the weakness in your bones, “What…what happened?”

“Oh, honey,” She came to the side of your bed and took your hand gently, making sure to avoid the tube along your arm, “You fell. At least, that’s what they think happened. A family found you upon the path just below the drop…” Tears filled her eyes but you felt numb as you tried to process what she was telling you, “They said you were lucky that you landed on the ledge. Had you missed it, well–”

Your mother choked and grabbed her throat as she squeezed your hand painfully and you flinched. You stared at the dotted pattern along the front of your gown and frowned.  _Had it all truly been in your head? It had all felt so real. Thorin, Fili, Mirkwood, Erebor…it had all been nothing._  A single tear rolled down your cheek and you let your head fall back against the pillow.

“Mum,” You mumbled thinly, “Mum, it can’t be.”

“Please, sweetie, stay calm,” She reached down and took a box, pressing the button on it, “The nurse said if you woke up that you need to avoid any stress.”

In less than a minute, the heavy door opened and a woman in scrubs approached your bedside, looking you over before fiddling with the clear bags which hung on the IV stand. “The doctor will be in shortly,” She declared, “Just relax. You’ll be alright. Do you want some water?”

“No, no, I don’t want anything,” You grumbled, wishing you had stayed unconscious. The thought that all  _that_ had been in your mind was torture.  _Were you that desperate for escape that your own subconscious would create a world so fantastical?_  “I just want to be alone.”

You pulled your hand from your mother’s and shileded yourself under the thin blanket, closing your eyes as you tried to summon Middle Earth.  _Nothing._  You sighed darkly and kept yourself shrouded in the darkness of your eyelids. “No, no, no,” You uttered in distraught whispers to yourself, sensing the concern of your mother and nurse, “It was real.”

“Honey,” Your mother touched your arm and you shrugged it off without looking, “Please.”

“Please, leave me alone,” You begged as your voice cracked and you covered your face with your hands, “Go away.”

* * *

The doctor arrived shortly after your mother had excused herself to ‘give you some time’ and he tried to explain to you what had happened.  _A coma or something?_  You had not listened to single word and could only fixate on the world inside of you. You could not fathom, even as all these different people assured you that you had been in a hospital bed for days, that it had not all truly happened.

“Another day,” He said as he stood and adjusted his white coat, “We’ll make sure you’re all good to go. Your vitals look stable and that cast should be off in no time,” He motioned to your plastered leg, “Everything else seems to be healing well enough. We’ll get you a chair and–”

“Thank you, doctor,” You interjected harshly, “I appreciate it.”

“I know it’s difficult, Y/N–”

“Do you?” You snapped at him, “I don’t mean to sound like a bitch but I just want to be left alone.”

“I understand,” He bowed his head and backed away, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” You repeated pointedly, “Bye.”

The grey-haired man left you without hesitation and you were grateful when the door shut behind him with a dull whoosh. You lifted your head and let it thud it back against the pillow, repeating the motion as you swore at the ceiling. Your thoughts would not stop whirling around in a maelstrom and you could not latch onto one over another. Time passed without measure and even when your mother returned quietly, you paid her little heed and argued with yourself.

Her snores were the only noise which came as the room grew dark and when the sun rose and the nurse appeared to check on you, you did not so much as look in her direction. The doctor returned at noon, or so your mom said as she helped you into the wheelchair, and she pushed you through the sterile halls as she chattered on without response. Even the burden of your injured leg was little compared to that inside your head.

You could not recall how you had arrived in your childhood room or when you had sprawled face down across the bed, only that it was relief to be alone. You buried your head under a pillow and at last succumbed to your grief, the tears flowing without restraint and your nose and head growing heavy. It was all just a stupid dream and here you were, crying over it like some little girl atop your Winnie the Pooh duvet.  _How pathetic you were._

And yet you still could not accept that it had all been a fantasy. Thorin and his change of heart. Fili and his kind words. The Company and their undying quest for their home. Thranduil’s cruel acts and the orc’s blade. And yet, there was no gash across your stomach or through your hand, there were only the bruises and broken bones from your fall in the forest.

“Mahal,” You swore into the dark, “Please take me back.”


	24. Over the Edge

Amid your grief, you had fallen into a dreamless sleep and to your dismay, you awoke to the faded blue walls of your teen years. Along the cornflower scape were faded outlines of posters you had hung there long ago and the same dresser with the missing knob sat below the single window. You rolled over awkwardly onto your back, your plastered leg making it difficult, and sighed into the morning light. Your head was still bending against the notion that it had all been but a fever dream.

You closed your eyes and summoned the faces of those you had lost to consciousness. Fili’s smile shone across your eyelids and Thorin’s dark hair hung sleekly over his shoulders among the others you had met in your fantasies. It was as if you could have reached out and touched them but upon opening your eyes, they dissolved into the nothing they were. You groaned loudly and pushed yourself up, sitting on the edge of the bed as you stared dully at the set of crutches against the wall.

It was as if that listless grumble had alerted your mother who appeared shortly and bade you come down for breakfast. Your stomach gurgled but not in hunger and you tried to bring forth the sharp pain which had last seared your middle back on Ravenhill. Dispirited that all you felt was the discomfort of your cast, you took the crutches and rose with stunted movements. Reluctantly, you made your way from the room and walked the hobbled, aimless steps to the dining room.

You ate in silence across from your mother who could do little more than ask after your health and admire the reality that you were awake. You focused on your plate, pushing your food around more than eating, and exhaled darkly at the table. Looking up at your mother’s sudden silence from her doting, you frowned deeper at her disappointment, though you were certain yours was greater.

“Mum,” You forced out as you dropped your fork, “When can I start… _living_ again? My job and–”

“Oh, honey, not for a while,” She answered with concern, “You barely just woke up and already you want to go back to work?”

“What else am I to do?” You were desperate for anything to distract you from your grief, “I don’t want to sit in the house all day and just…linger.”

“Well, what do you want to do, Y/N?” She asked gently.

 _Go back,_  you thought but only issued a glum shrug in return.

“I’m sorry to say it, hun,” She attempted a smile but your lack of response stifled it, “But with that leg, there’s not much you can do.”

“I can  _still_ walk,” You offered weakly, “Maybe not far or very quickly…”

“Dear, the doctor said you should rest,” She advised kindly but her caring manner was only irritating you further, “Maybe if we take the chair, we can go to the mall.”

“The mall?” You sighed, “I’m not in high school anymore.”

“I know, but we could just look around, maybe get something to eat,” She  _was_ trying and the worry which creased her features stabbed you with guilt, “Or whatever you want to do.”

“No, we can go to the mall,” You accepted apologetically, “I’m sorry, Mum. I’m just…different, now.”

“I know,” She reached out across the table to touch your hand, “It’s just going to take some time. How about you go get dressed and I’ll clean all this up?”

“Sure, Mum,” You pulled your hand away and took your crutches from the empty chair beside you, “It might take me a while, though.”

“Take as long as you need,” She smiled warmly and you pivoted yourself away with the crutches, hiding the tears rising in your eyes.  _What was wrong with you?_

* * *

The mall was little better than you remembered it. Your mother pushed you as you were relegated to the wheelchair in appeasement of her endless worry and you watched the people pass by with disillusioned eyes. The mannequins in overpriced garments and the shoppers joyously digging through sale racks made you yearn for the simplicity of Middle Earth.  _What was a fashionable dress compared to a Mountain home?_

 _It wasn’t real._ That was what you kept telling yourself and yet you could not shake the fabricated life. In the middle of a crowded mall with your plastered leg and fragile mind, you felt more displaced than ever before. You had never been one to fit seamlessly in but now you felt as if you were not even of the same race.

“Mum,” You breathed through your gloom, “I want to go home. I can’t be here.”

“We just got here, dear,” She stopped and rounded your chair to look at you, tilting her head in sympathy, “Alright…but let me buy you a smoothie on the way home. You barely touched your breakfast.”

“Fine,” You crossed your arms like the child she was treating you as and she went back around to steer the handles of your chair, “If you insist.”

“What has gotten into you?” It lacked any true reproach, instead she sounded rather amused, “You’ve always been stubborn but it seems the fall has only added to that.”

“Stubborn?’ You raised a brow, “Not really, not compared to…”

 _Thorin,_  you frowned and shook your head, “Not that stubborn, Mum.” Your voice brightened for a moment.

“Good,” She sounded reassured as she guided you through the stray shoppers, “At least I know you’re not totally miserable.”

 _Not totally_ , you thought, and recalled how Fili had kept you from utter despair when Thorin has distrusted you so. When you had been bound hand and foot because he thought you would kill his company in their sleep.  _Wouldn’t they laugh now?_  You in a chair with a useless leg.  _But they couldn’t laugh because they were all in your head._

You chuckled and your mother gave a heartened titter as the tarmac of the parking lot jostled your chair harshly. You held onto the arms until you reached the car and let her help you into the front seat, your mind sinking as you found your thoughts back in that other world.

The road blurred as your mother began to drive and you only shook yourself from your self-pity as she entered another plaza. Your chest seized and you clutched her arm, your head whirling as you ached to be anywhere else but there. You should have stayed asleep. 

“Mum,” You said louder than intended, “Why don’t you run in and get the smoothies? You know how they never get drive through right.”

“Are you sure dear?” She asked as she stopped her car at the entrance and you returned an eager nod.

“Please, I need a moment to myself,” You lied and your heart began to pound with the scheme forming in your mind, “Just roll down a window and leave the radio on.”

“Um, okay,” She looked at you with a puzzled smile and turned into the parking lot, pulling into a space, “You’ve got your phone, right?  Text me–”

“Mum, please,” You waved away her concern and she put the car in park, grabbing her purse before hesitantly opening her door, “Mixed berry with chia seed, please and thank you.”

“Of course,” She left the keys in the ignition and stepped out, looking back one last time before closing the door.

Watching her walk away and disappearing inside the smoothie shack, you smirked and were sure you wore an expression reminiscent of Kili. Awkwardly, you lifted yourself with your arms and forced your good leg underneath you in a semi-crouch, angling your cast over the console and onto the driver’s seat. Letting the weight guide you forward, you slid yourself awkwardly into the seat and set your hands on the wheel.

Turning the engine, you re-adjusted your legs, touching both pedals with your good foot and shifted the car out of park, praying you could manage with one leg. Reversing out of the spot, you turned and drove by the front of the shop just as your mother exited and she watched with shock as you floored the gas and tore out of the lot. Your instinct guided you though your cast made it harder to drive than expected. 

At last, you drove up the decline which led towards the forest and you turned off the car, staring up into the trees. You shoved the keys into your pocket and used the door to help yourself out, standing on one foot on the uneven ground. Hopping awkwardly forward, you found a stick tall enough to lean on and set your sights on the treeline.

Despite it all having been in your head, you felt as though you had taken much more perilous roads and drew on your time with Thorin to drive yourself forward. Slowly and painfully you reached the forest and leaned heavily against a tree, panting with the excess of maneuvering around your injured leg. You searched for the path you had taken the last time and, ever unskilled at direction, you chose one and continued on.

Twisting and turning, grabbing a second stick for support, changing paths and retracing your steps more than once, you finally stumbled upon a familiar sight. Certain that you had managed to find the right track, you dragged your cast through the twigs and dirt and nearly gasped as you saw the drop off just ahead of you. With a smile and sigh of relief, you fell back onto your rear against a tall oak and stared up into the sky, tears burning your eyes. There was no going back but the familiar place gave you peace.

You closed your eyes and leaned your head against the tree, catching your breath as the sounds of the forest overtook your senses. Birds chirped and squirrels scurried through leaves but among the breeze and chatter, you swore you could hear voices. Opening your eyes, you glanced around but saw no one and the voices could not be traced in any one direction. There was more than one, deep but distant, and no words could be discerned.

Your attention was drawn to the edge of the drop off and you looked perilously towards the empty air. The sky was a soft shade of pink and the sun dulled among the pastel clouds. Grabbing onto the bark of the tree, you forced yourself to your feet and paced your breath decisively as you were urged forward by some unknown force. A short distance from the edge, you paused and smiled, closing your eyes as dreams of Middle Earth swirled through your head.

Opening your eyes, you lifted your chin and hopped forward as quick as you could, ignoring the painful reverberations in your leg before launching yourself off the cliff.


	25. A Weird Quasi-Oedipal Tension

_Thorin stood with arms crossed, watching the lifeless body buried under the covers of the canopied bed. After Oin had done his best to sew the girl up, the king had made sure to find her a suitable resting place in hopes that comfort would aid in her recovery. That was, if she recovered. Her neck and spine tingled with torturous heat as he thought of how pale she looked and the grim prognosis issued by the grey-haired medic echoed in his head._

_The door opened behind him quietly but not without force and Thorin turned to face his nephew’s fraught expression. His blue eyes sparked with worry but underneath remained the same tension which had formed between prince and king. “The lock was broken,” He acceded with a begrudging tone, “So it seems.”_

_“You truly think I lied to you?” Thorin challenged; despite the comradery of battle and their shared concern over the ailing woman, the two could barely stand to be in the same chamber, “That I would allow her to run out into a horde of orcs so that **this** ,” He gestured to the looming bed, “Would happen? Nephew, you presume too much and you forget yourself.”_

_“Forget **myself**?” Fili hissed as he stepped toe to toe with his uncle, Balin who had followed him in set a hand on his shoulder but was shrugged off, “You tied her up, interrogated her, dragged her through rain and sleet, and let Thranduil–”_

_“I didn’t let Thranduil do anything!” Thorin roared as the two Durins mirrored each other’s frustration, “I tried to protect her.”_

_“Did you? And what happened when you were sick?” Fili sneered, “She wouldn’t tell me but I’m not blind. You must have done something.”_

_“I didn’t…” Thorin’s voice trailed off as he recalled the hazy memories of those grey days, “You’ve no right. None at all,” He growled, the rasp of a lion readying to pounce, “I–”_

_“Please, this isn’t helping anything,” Balin pleaded as he placed his hands gently on the shoulders of both dwarves, doing nothing to soften the stone of their resolve._

_“You never wanted her around,” Fili accused sharply, “You hadn’t a care for her until you noticed mine.”_

_“Do not presume to know my heart!” Thorin’s eyes filled with tears as he seethed, “You arrogant—”_

_“Mmmm,” The grumble came low but enough to draw silence from the enraged dwarves, “Shhh.”_

_Thorin’s heart pattered and he looked over in unison with the other two, their eyes widening as the woman shushed the commotion._

_“Be quiet,” Her low croak ordered from beneath the covers, “Both of you.”_

* * *

You fell headfirst towards the brambles and stones at the foot of the cliff but before you could collide violently with the dirt, it parted before you. You writhed and twisted in the void, astonished that your plan had worked. With every foot of your descent, the voices grew louder until finally your eyes opened with a jolt and you laid beneath a coverlet, your head cradled by a feathered pillow. 

Above, hung deep burgundy brocade and your vision was shaded by the deep amber hue of oil lamps. The voices were clearer as you laid paralyzed with shock and you exhaled, the effort sending a ripple of pain across your torso and through your hand.

You groan quieted the squabble which you had failed to hear and you sensed a shift in the air. 

“Be quiet,” You croaked with effort, “Both of you.” Whoever was arguing, they were quite angry and it made your head spin.

You heard footfalls near and you nearly squeaked as you saw the three dwarves approach you. Balin stood behind Fili on one side of the bed and Thorin on the other, all looked as astounded as you felt. As the pain registered throughout your body, you reached down to touch the stitches along your stomach through the fabric of your torn tunic and the bandage which bound it. You gasped at the pang it sent through you and dared not move your other hand which stung just as much.

“I thought…” Your voice scraped your throat, parched from lack of water, and you coughed, moaning from the agony it spread through you, “I came  _back_.” You fought to keep yourself still, knowing that even if you had the strength to move, it would only worsen your discomfort.

“You did,” Thorin agreed as he looked down at you with sparkling eyes, “You’re alright.”

“I’ll fetch Oin,” Balin chimed as he ran his fingers along the coverlet, “I’m glad you’re awake, dear.” His manner reminded you of your mother and you felt remorse for leaving her behind, but not so much as you had felt before the jump.

“Y/N,” Fili got to his knees beside the bed, reaching out to touch your shoulder, “We thought…you were gone.”

“Me too,” You smiled but it crumpled as you were once more overcome, “Ugh, my god.”

“Y/N,” Thorin seemed want to seize you and examine every inch of you himself but you saw a hesitation in him, “You must stay calm. Oin said as much. The stitches won’t hold through much and—ahem.”

He cleared his throat as his eyes caught his nephews and you looked over to the cold expression on Fili’s face. You had never seen him look so far from cheerful and glancing back at Thorin you noticed a similar shadow to his features. Yet, as his attention returned to you, he appeared to flinch. An icy silence settled between the prince and king and you would have shuddered if it would not cause you further pain.

The whisk of the door interrupted the tense standoff and Oin appeared from the foot of the bed, his leather bag slung lazily from his shoulder. “So, the old one isn’t going senile.”

The grey-hair medic approached curtly, nearly stepping on Fili as he settled on the bed next to, opening his bag on his lap. He fished around as Fili stood and you tried to ignore the glare he was exchanging with his uncle on the other side of the room. You did not know what was going on but it was almost more painful than your wounds. Oin pulled back the blanket with a grunt and pushed aside the shredded tails of your tunic to look at the bandaging.

“You two,” He grumbled without looking at the others, not even his own king, “Go. She don’t need an audience, especially not you ninnies and your fretting. Like a bunch of headless chickens hovering around.”

Both Durins looked to you and you gave a small nod, wincing as the medic touched your torso lightly. Reluctantly, Fili and Thorin moved away from the bed with mumbled farewells and you closed your eyes against the pain of Oin’s tending. 

“You’re a tough one,” He commended grimly as he took your hand more gently than would be expected of the terse dwarf, “I didn’t think you’d last more than a night.”

“Thanks,” You frowned at him darkly as you hissed at another painful touch, “I think.”

With a shadow of a grin upon his face, he went about examining you, offering you water and wiping away your sweat. You were tempted to ask about the tension between Thorin and Fili but you knew Oin to be the antithesis of a gossip. Instead, you stewed in worry, wondering at what could possibly be wrong, and biting down on your tongue as the gruff dwarf went about his work.


	26. A Tertiary POV

You were left to your worries and pain for a week. Over the days, members of the Company streamed in to check on the woman who had fallen from the skies and it helped distract you from the pull of your stitches and your bedridden state. Bofur came with his brothers and re-enacted his heroic feats of battle, Bombur offering you some walnut biscuits he had baked in the reinstated ovens of Erebor, and Bifur leaving a mechanical bird on your bedside table.

Then came Bilbo with Kili and a tray of tea, a book tucked under his arm which he claimed to be Dwarven legends and folktales. He read one to you before he was interrupted by Ori who tripped through the door, dropping his sketch book across the carpet. His brothers pulled him back to his feet and he offered you a drawing he had done of the Mountain as you watched Nori examine the room for hidden treasure.

Upon one of Oin’s many visits to check on your wounds, Gloin joined him and told news of how he had sent for his son and wife to come to Erebor. His excitement made you think of your mother and how you had left her behind but you were certain this was where you were meant to be. Balin was there just as often as the medic and to your surprise, he was accompanied on one occasion by his brother.

Ever the gruff and silent type, he hovered around as Balin sat at your bedside and told you of the restorations underway. Dwalin fidgeted as he paced the room and you were annoyed by his ghostly presence. He had ever been weary of you but you wondered how much you would have to bleed to gain any semblance of trust with the old dwarf. You sighed, interrupting Balin’s words, and frowned over at the restless brother.

“Would you just sit down?” You ordered sharply and grasped your torso in pain, “I know you’re not too fond of me, but by god, you’re going to drive me crazy.”

“Huh, sorry,” He stilled and neared reluctantly, “I just…got a lot on my mind,” He looked to his brother who returned a curious look and gestured for Dwalin to pull up a chair, “And I never said I didn’t like you, lass.”

“You don’t have to,” You grumbled as you leaned weakly against the pillows, “Actions are louder than words.”

“Oh, dear, don’t you worry about Dwalin,” Balin waved away the thought with a chuckle, “It’s just the way he is. Trust me, he wouldn’t be here if he didn’t want to be. Right, brother?”

“Um, yes,” Dwalin answered awkwardly as he rubbed his neck, “I mean…I didn’t think you’d survive. I never seen no one live through…that.”

“Well, sorry to disappoint,” You shook your head at him dryly.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” He looked down at his burly hands glumly, “You’re tougher than you look.”

“Might be,” You accepted dully, “But I don’t know if it’s worth the pain.”

“We’ve all been busy,” Balin explained as he glanced at his brother, “There’s much damage from Smaug’s inhabitance. The ash alone–”

“Is that why I seen only one Durin in the last week?” You challenged; your nights spent silently dwelling over why neither Thorin or Fili had visited since you had first awoken, “I understand a king and his heir have their duties but…five minutes? That’s not too much to ask.”

“Oh, well…” Dwalin looked around shiftily, “Those two.”

“Shh,” Balin batted his brothers shoulder, “They are busy and do ask after you.”

“But cannot be bothered to come see me?” You huffed and once more pain rattled your bones, “I thought…I don’t know what I thought, but I did believe they were my friends.”

“They are, dear, they are, it’s just a bit complicated right now,” Balin explained vaguely, further heightening your worry.

“Speaking of,” Dwalin tapped his foot impatiently, “I should get back, before they–”

“Dwalin’s been busy helping out, it’s why he’s not been in till now,” Balin narrowed his eyes at his brother and you knew they weren’t telling you something, “And he’s right. He should be on his way.”

“Right,” Dwalin stood slowly and looked between you and Balin warily, “Um, I hope you feel better?”

His well wishes sounded like a question as he appeared most unfamiliar with the custom and he turned awkwardly on his heel and ambled towards the door. You looked to Balin suspiciously as he held his cheerful façade and you crossed your arms despite the pain of the movement. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Dear, I’ve told you all,” He assured in his sweet manner, “Besides, you should focus on getting well. The king and his nephew will come see you in due time. Trust me.”

Sure, you glowered at him and let your arms fall, your hand clumsily sliding down the coverlet. Two of your fingers were immobile from the wound in your palm and you dared not try to use the hand. You slept more than anything and the visitations made the time in between pass quickly, but those who did not appear made your pain greater.

* * *

_Dwalin walked so quickly that he would be better off running. He felt as though he had another sense when it came to Thorin and he knew he was a fool to leave him alone for longer than necessary. His suspicions were confirmed as he neared the throne room and heard the same bickering which had been going on and off for the last week. Entering the barreled chamber, he found Thorin and Fili glaring at each other once more._

_“It’s not my fault you possess all the maturity of a dwarfling,” Thorin growled as he squared his shoulders, “Should you ever be prince–”_

_“You speak of my maturity?” Fili exclaimed viciously, “As one with near twice as many years behind him, you act as if you’ve barely half.”_

_“Oi!” Dwalin shouted as the pair looked about to accost each other. The bald-dwarf lumbered over, placing himself between king and prince with a fearsome sneer, “Either of you think of raising a fist at one another and I’ll do worse to both of you.”_

_Thorin and Fili gawped at Dwalin before glancing at their feet guiltily; the Durin blood all too apparent in both. He shook his head at the pair and sighed, rubbing a his hand over his tattooed head as he did. He looked from one to the other and crossed his arms like a father at his children, wondering why he was so loyal to two such donkeys._

_“Right, Balin said the two of you have to start acting civil,” He grumbled, “Like you’re actually of royal blood.”_

_“I see no issue with my own behavior,” Fili asserted with a dark frown, “I’ve offered him nothing by my courtesy and what do I get in return?”_

_“Ugh, you two are a pair of fools,” Dwalin reprimanded as Thorin’s stance mirrored that of a lion ready to pounce, “At this rate, you’ll never see the girl again.” The Durin’s exchanged a peculiar look and the loyal hand nearly smacked them both, “Don’t act like this isn’t about her. Balin says if you two can’t be in a room with each other for more than ten minutes without such animosity, you’d be little comfort to the ailing woman.”_

_“We don’t have to be in a room with one another,” Thorin griped, “He can wait outside.”_

_“Me?” Fili retorted sharply, “Why uncle, you were all too willing to leave her tied to a tree not so long ago. And before the battle…”_

_“I didn’t think I’d returned and I…” Thorin exhaled desperately as he turned away, pushing back his hair, “I was ashamed and afraid…I thought you the better dwarf.”_

_“Because I am,” Fili countered and Thorin reared on him, stopped only by Dwalin who stood unamused between them._

_“Why should she want to be with either of you dolts?” Dwalin interjected harshly, cuffing both on the shoulder, “I can’t imagine she’d want to be associated with two such stubborn, selfish asses!”_

_Dwalin’s sudden outburst stunned both Durins who stared at him, the guilt returning to their features as he began to back away. “You know what, I love my brother but not enough to carry on this fool’s errand of babysitting the two of you.” He clapped his hands as if wiping them clean of the dwarves before him, “And Y/N_ was _asking after you. Both of you, but from what I can tell, she’s better off without you.”_

_Dwalin turned on his heel and stomped away, no urge to look back at the speechless Durins as the tension seeped away to contrite silence. He stormed out the door and into the corridor. He wasn’t the most adept when it came to women and emotion, but he hoped the ploy worked. If he was lucky, the pair of them would be shamed into setting aside such a petty feud. Else, Erebor may not stand after all._


	27. Your Standard Love Triangle

You had been bedridden for much too long. Even if it tore the stitches and compounded your agony to the point of tears, you could not stay another day beneath the coverlet. Balin sat upon a stool to the side of the bed on his daily visit and you grunted as you pulled yourself up to a sitting position. Sweat formed across your brow from the excess but you merely brushed aside the ache of bone and flesh.

“Dear,” Balin looked up from the book he had been reading from aloud, “What are you doing?”

Oin rose from the corner, awoken by the elder dwarf’s voice, a snort accompanying his movement. You pushed aside the coverlet, your tunic sewn up over your wounds and still filthy from the journey that had led you to the Mountain. Balin stood as you bent your legs slowly, his hand on your shoulder with concern as his face wrinkled deeper.

“Y/N, you cannot–” He looked over his shoulder to the approaching medic, “You must rest. You will only make your wounds worse.”

“No,” You knocked his hand away and groaned, “I can’t stay here any longer. I need to get up.”

“You can try,” Oin mused doubtfully, “But you’ll not make it far.”

“You’ll not even be able to support yourself, Y/N,” Balin said with worry, “Your hand…”

“I’ll use my other,” You braced yourself, carefully turning yourself on the mattress with a suppressed whine, “Oh god,” You were panting as your legs fell over the side of the bed and you could only let yourself bend so far before it caused a stabbing in your stomach, the muscles tender and unhealed, “A cane? Or a stick at least and I should be fit…” You clutched at your middle, “…to walk.”

“You’re going to kill yourself,” Oin grumbled as he crossed his arms, “After all my hard work.”

“She might just,” Balin sighed as he shook her head, “But she’s not to be faltered…she’s taken too much after the obstinacy of our race.”

“Hmm,” Oin frowned though amusement twinkled in his eyes as you sat on the edge of the bed, searching for your strength, if it even remained, “I’ll fetch a walking stick and we’ll see how far she makes–”

The grey medic quieted as voices came from the corridor, the deep baritone of Dwalin muffled by the thick stone. Another came and you recognized it at once, holding back the smile it tugged at as you recalled the irritation its owner had caused you these last days. A third speaker joined the chatter, an argument more fervent than your own, and a knock came at the door before it creaked open, just an inch.

“Balin,” Dwalin called in an annoyed voice, “You best come out here.”

Balin gave you a sidelong glance, the concern obvious in his pale blue eyes, and slowly turned to leave you to your adony. He nudged Oin’s elbow in a gesture to follow and mumbled an order to fetch the walking stick. The medic preceded the white-haired dwarf out the door and the stone was shut tightly behind him.

You waited precariously on the edge of the mattress, listening to the drone of conflicting voices just outside the chamber. You wondered why there was such difficulty and if you were not sure you would fall on your face, you would have hobbled over and opened the door yourself. It was some tense minutes before the stone was shifted once more and Balin entered, leaving the door open to a pair of followers.

“Y/N,” He announced kindly, as the visitors stood in the doorway, “You have some guests.”

Thorin and Fili smiled in unison but catching each other’s expressions, they grimaced and Balin shook his head in warning. Thorin preceded his nephew into the room with a subtle elbow to the younger Durin’s side and you watched them curiously approach you. The king held a bouquet of blue petals; poppies by the look of them but you had never seen the flora before.

“Y/N,” He greeted with joy as he approached, “You’re looking much recovered.”

“Do I?” You challenged with a sneer, “How would you know? You’ve not been here to make sure of that.”

He blanched and looked to his nephew who came to stand at his side, both sharing a guilty pout which would have been comical if you weren’t so angry. Balin appeared quite pleased by them and their penitent ways. The elder dwarf set a hand on the shoulders of both Durins and faced you with a smile.

“Please, Y/N, these two had some work to do before they could visit. It was I who kept them away. For your own well-being.” The uncle and nephew shifted in their boots as their advisor spoke, “But now I think them harmless, so I shall leave them to their amends.”

Balin bowed his head and swept towards the door, his steps not so heavy as they usually were. Opening the door, he came face-to-face with the medic who stood with a thick cane in his hand, about to knock upon the stone. Balin took the stick wordlessly and set it against the inner wall before ushering Oin into the corridor and shutting the door behind him.

You were left to your fuming as you glared up at the Durins and they seemed clueless at what to say or do. Never had you imagined them squirming so because of you but it gave you little pleasure as you recalled the last two weeks you had spent asking after them. You huffed and your hands balled into fists, the movement causing your injured hand to fill with pain and fall limp upon your lap as you winced.

“Um, these are for you,” Thorin offered his bouquet, “I thought it would brighten up the chamber.”

“Are these supposed to heal my wounds?” You challenged without restraint, “Or to make me forgive that you’ve avoided me for the last two weeks while I’ve been fighting not to die?”

“Y/N,” Fili interjected weakly, “We’re sorry but…we just couldn’t.”

“Balin said…” Thorin gave up trying to hand you the flowers and set them on the bedside table, “He wouldn’t let us see you until we stopped.”

“Stopped what?” You wondered aloud.

“Fighting,” Fili admitted shamefully, “And we were too stupid to see past our own pigheadedness, thus we weren’t allowed to come.”

“Balin said it would make you worse,” Thorin added, the pair reminded you of trouble-making children confessing their wrongs, “Which likely it would have.”

“What the heck were you fighting about?” You frowned at them, incensed by their ridiculous behavior.

“Well, um…” Thorin rubbed the back of his neck, looking to the flowers he had set aside and Fili too avoided your eyeline, “That’s the thing.”

“It’s a bit awkward, you know?” Fili struggled to meet your gaze and you were growing even more frustrated.

“That’s it!” You exclaimed and it caused a pang in your stitches, “You two.” You sidled closer to the edge, reaching out your good hand in a gesture of need. “Help me up.”

Once more, the royal duo looked to each other and you sighed fiercely at them. “Y/N, is that a good idea?”

“Look,” You pointed to the door frame, “Oin brought me a walking stick and one way or the other, even if I have to do it on my own, I’m getting up.”

“Fili,” Thorin relented and nodded towards the cane by the door, “I don’t think we’ve much of a choice.”

The king took your hand firmly as his nephew went to fetch the walking stick and you were pulled to your feet painfully. You were even weaker than you had expected and the motion of standing sent a reverberation of agony through your entire body. You leaned against Thorin more than you would have liked and Fili returned with the cane, offering it with a concerned grimace.

“Now,” You breathed heavily as you separated yourself from Thorin with effort, balancing yourself shakily with the stick, “Tell me what you were fighting about. Now.”  

“What we were fighting about…” Thorin grumbled and was once more staring at his boots.

“Well, you see,” Fili began nervously, “We were fighting about, uh, about…” He cleared his voice and both Durin’s stared at you, at once making you wish they weren’t as the intensity made you sweat, “About you, Y/N.”

“Oh?” You bit your lip and looked from one to the other, “You want me to leave, don’t you?”

“Leave?” Thorin sputtered with surprise, “Well, quite the opposite.”

“No, definitely not,” Fili assured you and his cheeks slowly turned red, “We want to, uh…”

“You see, this isn’t very conventional,” Thorin explained awkwardly; never had his demeanor been so uncomfortable, “You see, dwarves don’t usually run into such issues. What, with so few dwarrowdams and–”

“Stop rambling and explain to me what on earth you are trying to say?” You ordered desperately, leaning heavily on the stick.

“We want to court you,” Fili blurted out and he was glowing scarlet above his blonde beard, “Both of us and in dwarven tradition, this has not happened often, if at all.”

“Well, there is one legend and that did not end so well,” Thorin intoned, “What with the dwarves in question…killing each other.”

“You want to court me?” Your voice was higher than you intended, their sudden confession rattling your nerves. 

To think, a prince and a king, asking to court you. It was surreal and it made your head spin. You wobbled on your feet and angled yourself onto the stool Balin had left at your bedside. Thorin and Fili watched you anxiously and you felt like you were about to be sick. 

“I, uh, oh.” You brushed your wounded hand over your stomach as you gripped the walking stick, “I’ve never been asked…by two at once. I don’t know what to say.”

 _Or think,_  you peered between the Durins with wide eyes and they seemed just as stunned as you.

“Well, which one?” Thorin asked nervously.

“Which one?” You echoed in disbelief, “You want me to choose?  _Now_?”

“Uncle, Uncle, we can’t expect her to decide like this,” Fili protested, “It’s not very fair, is it?” He smiled at you gently and you felt your own cheeks burning and the sweat had only worsened across your brow, “We should allow her time. A chance to see which one of us is her One.”

“One?” You would have staggered to your knees if you had not already sat, “What?”

“We shall court her, separately,” Fili announced, his idea lending him boldness, “You shall have your chance to prove yourself and I mine.”

“Hmm,” Thorin contemplated the offer before looking to you expectantly, “Y/N? What say you?”

“Um, er,” You gulped and tried to sort through your thoughts; perhaps you had gotten out of bed too early, “I…” You stuttered as you tried to come up with a response; you had been asked out before, but never in such an odd manner and never under such duress, “I suppose.”

Uncle and nephew exhaled in relief and smiled at each other before the fire returned to their eyes. In a subtle gesture of competition, they inched away from each other and already you could see this was not to be so simple. As they looked back to you, you smiled at them anxiously and tried to hide your dread. However this unfolded, it would not be happy for all.


	28. First Date

You were finally back on your feet but could barely manage without the walking stick provided for you. Balin forced his brother to take you on your first tour of the semi-restored Mountain. It was little changed from before other than the lack of ash and newly-opened corridors which had previously been left unventured. You didn’t much care, it was simply a relief to be free of the bed and chamber you had spent weeks in.

Thorin and Fili had continued to visit after their revelation but neither were to do so without the other as Balin had insisted upon it. You could tell the white-haired advisor was trying to mediate between rising tensions and you would rather be spared the drama of the dwarves asking after each other or feeding the jealousy which was already so blatant. It was thus, as you came upon your door, that you sighed and hesitated when Dwalin opened it.

“Do I really have to go back so soon?” You whined; the bald dwarf had offered little conversation but he was preferable to the monotony of bed rest.

“Yes, I’m afraid so,” He huffed grumpily, “My brother said not to keep you too long. Your wounds might look better but we can’t be too careful.”

“Ugh, you sound just like him,” You grumbled and Dwalin sneered, “Fine, I’ll go.” You gave him a sickly-sweet smile and he winced, waving you inward as he shook his head grumpily.

You left Dwalin in the corridor and he continued past your chamber with mumbles which you couldn’t determine to be annoyed or amused. Balin was waiting for you on the same stool he had used to watch over you and he rose with an achy grunt. He neared with a smile more genuine than your own and reached out to steady you, though you did not waver.

“Y/N,” He greeted warmly and turned back to the room, keeping a hand on your arm, “I’ve brought you fresh garments. I am sure the bloodstains and grime are growing quite wearisome on you.”

“I really don’t mind,” You protested humbly, “Besides, it gives me character.”

“I insist,” He guided you forward slowly motioning to a stack of folded fabric, “They should fit you well enough. I imagine a dwarrowdam is roughly akin to…you.”

“Huh, thanks,” You pulled away and hobbled over to lean against the bed post, setting aside your walking stick, “Lovely.”

You took the first piece of clothing and it unfolded into a full woolen gown dyed a deep red and decorated with pale yellow embroidery. You grimaced over at the white-haired dwarf and lowered the dress. “You want me to wear _this_?” You questioned darkly, “What’s wrong with a new tunic?”

“Well, I’d say very much,” He placed his hands on his hips as your mother would have, “Thorin dropped in to say he’d be in tonight for your first outing and seeing as you are recovering quite well, I agreed to it.”

“Oh no,” You tossed the dress back on the pile and gripped your forehead in distress, “Already? Oh, I can’t, Balin.”

“But, dear, you accepted their invitation,” He neared and gently moved your hand away from your face, “If you did not desire the king’s courtship, you had merely to say no.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” You sighed and frowned desperately, “It was only…I’m not ready. And he’s a king. Like, really a king now and I’m…not even from here.”

“It’ll be just fine, dear, kings have coupled with commoners before,” You flinched resentfully at the title though you knew he meant no harm, “Though I’ve never seen two dwarves courting the same dam as such. Surely, a dam would have many suitors but she would not accept more than one at a time, and…Oh dear, I’ve not meant to get you worked up.”

You had slumped onto the mattress with a pained expression and Balin took your hand kindly as he looked you over.

“No, no, you’re right, I’ll be fine and…oh my god, this is a date!” You were so frazzled you took back your walking stick, waving away Balin so that you could stand up awkwardly, “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve been on a date?” You began to pace, rather slowly since you weren’t too agile at the moment, “Especially with someone who tied me up and—Hey shouldn’t I be mad at him for that?”

“You can be,” Balin shrugged with an amused look in his eye, “I am sure the king will have an ear to hear your grievances when he arrives. Which should be soon, so let’s get you ready.”

“Ugh, no, urg a blurgh,” You were just making noises as Balin sorted through the pile of clothing.

“Here,” He handed you half the stack, “Get your undergarments and shift on and I can help you with the dress. I learned from my wife and she was never disappointed. Though she may say otherwise when you meet her.”

“You have a wife? Is she here already?”

“Not as yet, but soon enough,” He smiled and guided you to the bath chamber, “Go on then. I’ll be out here.”

* * *

You looked in the mirror and groaned. The red looked absolutely awful on you, especially with how sallow your skin had grown from your recovery. And it was awkward as hell. You didn’t mind wearing a dress once in a while but a full-length gown? That was too much. Balin had done well enough helping you with your hair, unknotting the hair tie from it and brushing it out, but you were still a mess.

“Stop it, you look wonderful,” Balin pulled you away from the mirror as a knock came at the door, “And I’m sure Thorin will agree.”

“Thorin?” You sounded as if you had been huffing helium and Balin left you to answer the door, revealing the king waiting with another bouquet of flowers.

It would have been an awe-inspiring sight were it not for your nerves. His hair was neater than your own, his blue eyes as vibrant as ever, a clean overcoat of brocade across his chest, and silver accessories which made him even more regal. You  _were_  just a commoner.

“Y/N,” His gaze fell to you as he entered and he smiled, “You look…beautiful,” He neared and handed you the flowers, “Very. I’ve never even…you’re wearing a dress?”

“It’s terrible, isn’t it?” You pouted as you tried to hide behind the flowers, “I look ridiculous.”

“You look amazing,” He asserted and offered his hand, “Please, I’ve planned a night just for us.”

“Um, okay,” You tried to smile but probably resembled like a frightened mouse, “Just let me set these aside.”

“I’ll get a vase,” Balin took the flowers and ushered you to the door, giving you time to balance yourself between your cane and Thorin, “You go on.”

The king led you out into the corridor as the elder dwarf held open the stone door and Thorin led you silently through the halls. You peeked over at him as he kept a tight grip on your hand and you were sure you were hallucinating at the nervous twitch in his eye. After a few turns, he offered his armfor better support and you found your steps easier.

Finally, you were nearing your destination and he led you out onto a natural rocky dais in the mountain’s face. A table was set with a meal for two and the sky was just beginning to darken; the sun setting in a spectrum of blues, purples, and pinks. Thorin helped you to your seat before sitting across from you and offering you a glass of wine.

“Um, thank you,” You took the goblet and sipped from it daintily, “I, uh…this is very nice.”

“I hope so,” He rubbed his neck as he looked away, clearing his throat before shifting in his chair and glancing to you once more, “Look, this is…awkward. Just don’t think about it like…that. Y/N, we’ve been through so much.”

“Right, we shouldn’t sit here like a pair of shy teenagers,” You laughed and it cracked in the tension of the evening, “Why don’t you tell me about…uh, the Mountain? I don’t really know much about it before Smaug and I like history.”

“Really?” He tilted his head curiously and slowly his face softened, “You are a rare breed.”

“One you’d tie to a tree?” You challenged, once more recalling your early days, “Hmm?”

“Yes, I am sorry for that, you know?” He averted his eyes guiltily and you laughed again, the air no longer so still.

“I know, Thorin,” You assured him and sat back with a breath of relief, “Just tell me about the last king. Your father, right?”

“Yes, my father,” He took a gulp of wine and set his glass down heavily, “His name was Thrain, son of Thror…”

Thorin began his recounting and you listened, forgetting the unusual nature of your date for the sound of his voice. His face brightened as he shared the details of his paternal history and you couldn’t help but watch him with fascination. In all your time knowing Thorin, you had rarely seen him so at ease. This was a side of him he did not reveal to just anyone.

“Well, this was wonderful,” You set down your fork and pushed back the hair hanging in your face; you cursed Balin for not allowing you tie it back, “Really, Thorin, much better than the food I’ve been eating.”

“Good, good,” He rubbed his hands as he stood and you blew away another stray lock as you used your cane to rise, “I’ll walk you back to your chambers, I guess.”

“Thank you,” You let him help you all the way to your feet and swore under your breath, “My damn hair!”

“Here,” He released you and motioned for you to spin around, “I can braid it for you, if you like.”

“Oh, yes please,” You smiled and slowly pivoted, “Thank you, again.”

You felt him separate your hair as he began his work and you did not know many men back home who could braid. It was quite impressive. And soothing as his fingers brushed your scalp and wound the top of your hair into a braid which kept it away from your forehead. You turned back around as he finished and smiled up at him.

“Do I look better?” You asked cheerily.

“You look as beautiful as ever,” He offered his arm again and you saw a keen spark in his eyes, “Here, let me tell you the story of how my father met my mother.”

Thorin dived into his next tale as you walked along and you felt better than you had since before the battle. You hoped it was a long story and you would not be left once more to languish in the desolation of your chamber.


	29. It's Just Hair

Thorin left you at the door of your chamber and you were relieved to find it empty. You glanced in the mirror hung against the wall, your hair held back elegantly by the braid and smiled. You couldn’t bear to take it out and it was so tight, you could likely keep it in for days. You crossed to the table which stood before the hearth where Balin had set out the bouquet of azure flowers in a vase. You ran a nail along a petal as you bent to sniff them and it was almost worth the pain it caused in your stomach.

You were content to spend the night alone and dream about Thorin and the unbelievable reality of you being courted by a king. It would have been worthy of a fairy tale if you were not suddenly struck by the memory of Fili. You could not help but feel guilty for enjoying your date with his uncle and wondered if you could even manage to look him in the eye when he called on you.

You maneuvered yourself to the edge of your bed and sat down heavily. Despite the excitement of the night, you were exhausted. You had done more that day than you had in the last weeks. Without Balin, you struggled to unlace your gown and only loosened it enough to shimmy out. You let it slump across the stool next to your bed and laid yourself across the mattress with a grunt.

You lightly touched the healing wound across your stomach, the hardening scabs still sensitive. The bandage around your hand caught your attention and you brought it up and examined it in the dim lantern light. Mobility had returned to your fingers but bending them was excruciating. You let your hand fall to the bed and closed your eyes, yawning loudly as the tension left your body.

You slept through the night for the first time in months and awoke feeling renewed, if not a little groggy. Balin appeared as if he could sense your consciousness and offered you a plain bowl of porridge. He sat with you in contented silence and you squinted up at him as you found him peeking at you periodically.

“What?” You asked as you shifted the blanket you had wrapped around your shoulders, “Is there something on my face?”

“No, no,” He smiled but his lips quavered, “I was just admiring your hair. That’s a lovely braid.”

“Oh, yeah.” You reached back and touched your hair, still twined tightly in the back, “Thorin did it for me. I am garbage at it, you know?”

“Thorin, eh?” His cheek twitched as he spoke, his eyes straying in unspoken thoughts, “That was nice of him.”

“Whats wrong?” You were confounded by his sudden change, “Balin?”

“Nothing, dear,” He stood and smooth out the vest he wore over his tunic, “I’ve just a long day ahead of me,” He visibly stilled himself from wringing his hands, “And so do you. I’ll send up Dwalin with some fresh water for you to wash before Fili comes.”

“Fili?” You were starting to loath how the elder kept you in ignorance, “When is he–”

“Soon,” Was all Balin answered as he neared the door, resting his hand on the iron handle, “You should be just fine without me. Besides, should you need anything, Dwalin should be more than willing to help.”

“Dwalin?” You mused incredulously, “I’m not too sure about that.”

“Enjoy your day, dear,” He dismissed as he opened the door, “I shall see you later.”

Balin slipped into the corridor before you could respond and you sighed darkly at the stone as it closed heavily behind him. He shouldn’t even bother returning. You were more than capable now that you were back on your own feet and he acted like your grandfather, doting over your every misstep. It was starting to get on your nerves.

Dwalin appeared soon after with a pail of semi-warm water and you washed your face and hands, content that you could do little more in the circumstances. The bald-dwarf informed you he would be just outside the door and you wondered how often he had stood guard to your chambers. You smoothed your hair and the thick braid within it, once more donning the red dress and began the interminable wait for Fili’s imprecise arrival.

It came too quickly as you heard the rumble of Dwalin’s baritone through the stone and a knock sounded shortly. You limped over to the door, gripping the head of your walking stick tightly, and were thankful when the stone was pushed open from the other side. The bald Fundin watched dully from behind Fili who stood before you with his characteristic grin, one hand behind his back.

“Y/N,” He nearly sang your name as you stood slightly hunched before him, “You look well.”

“Sure, I do,” You scoffed, unable to straighten yourself fully for the tearing in your stomach, “I could say the same of you with more honesty.”

“Please, Y/N,” He chuckled and slowly revealed a closed fist, “I’ve brought you a gift.”

“Oh, you didn’t have to,” You blushed as he opened his hand and presented a gleaming silver bracelet with amethyst between the links, “I can’t accept this.”

“I did have to,” He insisted and took your free hand in his, mindful of the bandage wrapped around it, “It seems my uncle is determined to drown you in flowers but I’ve never been one for extravagance.”

“Fili,” You warned, “Please, let’s not think about Thorin.”

“Who’s thinking of Thorin?” He kidded as he clasped the bracelet around your wrist, “Not me. How could I think of anything but the beautiful woman stood before me?”

“Alright, that’s enough,” You pulled your hand away to cuff him on the shoulder but it hurt you more than him, “Come on, then. Where are we off to?”

“An adventure,” He promised, stepping back to wave you into the corridor; Dwalin watched you with latent eyes. If you didn’t know him so well, you’d say he was amused by the interaction, “The Mountain can grow quite dull so I thought I’d take you on a tour of the outside.” Fili explained as he kept stride with your stuttered steps, “I’ve been exploring the woods these last weeks,” He grinned as he peered over at you, “I promise, there are no giant spiders in this one.”

“Thank god,” You breathed as you cursed your sluggish pace; you felt so helpless as you walked in a half-crouch, “To be honest, I’d jump at any chance for some fresh air.”

* * *

You sat in a meadow just past the tree line of Erebor’s forest, Fili just beside you as you fiddled with the silver bracelet on your wrist. The air was fragrant with pollen and the sun shone brightly down as the wind carried the meoldies of distant birds. Fili was describing all the discoveries he had made in and around the Mountain and you listened to him as intently as you had Thorin.

“This place made me think of you,” He interrupted himself and glanced down at you with sparkling eyes, “Do you remember Beorn’s?”

“Of course,” You answered, recalling how his fingers had lingered on your cheek, “It feels so long ago.”

“That’s the day I realized,” He confessed as he took your uninjured hand and admired it with his dulcet gaze, “The way I feel about you…”

“Fili,” You coloured and touched your hot cheek with your injured hand, “I, uh, don’t know what to say.”

“You look as wonderful as you did then,” He cajoled, “Even with all that blood on your face.” You couldn’t help but giggle as you sensed him leaning closer and he whispered into your ear, “You’re lovely, you know that?” He reached up and you felt him caress your hair, “The braid suits you. You almost look a real dwarrowdam.”

“Thank you, Thorin did it,” You smiled proudly and he pulled away as if you had slapped him, “What’s wrong?”

“Thorin gave you that braid,” He stared at his fingers as if they were dirty, “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“What do you mean?” You watched him as he rose, turning to you with furrowed brow, “I don’t understand why you’re so upset.”

“You don’t know?” He asked and you shook your head fervently, “Of course you don’t.”

Fili offered to help you up wordlessly, doing so with immense care despite his annoyance. As he helped you into the mule-drawn cart he had brought you in, you could feel the anger radiating from him. Guilt crawled up your spine though you had no idea what crime you had committed. The cart jolted into motion and you picked at your skirts nervously, dreading what end Fili’s wrath would lead you to.


	30. Ugh, Dwarves!

You could barely keep up with Fili as he stormed through the mountain corridors, paying little heed to your straggling steps. He was so angry, you could have sworn his irises had turned red for an instant. You were senseless when it came to direction but you knew where the prince was headed and it only heightened your worries. 

You followed him through the tall doors of the throne room and cringed as you spied Thorin near the throne in a hushed conversation with Balin.

“Oi,” Fili announced his presence with the angry exclamation, “You scoundrel.”

“Hmm,” Thorin looked up and you saw apprehension crease Balin’s features, “What is the meaning of–”

“Take a wild guess,” Fili roared as he approached Thorin in his fury, “To think you could be so underhanded. What was it you always told me of Durin’s blood? Some tripe about honour.”

“Fili, you are my nephew but it doesn’t make me any less your king,” Thorin warned as he came toe-to-toe with the prince, “If you’ve something to say, you best say it straight.”

“You know she didn’t know what it meant,” Fili growled, pushing his shoulders back, “Yet, you did it anyway, and why? To get to me? You think me so naïve?” You stepped up beside Balin, speechless at the confrontation, “You think her a fool?”

“Fili,” Thorin gave a roguish smile, “I merely was helping her–”

“Don’t give me that shit,” Fili snapped and you heard padding from behind you, looking over your shoulder as Dwalin neared with a scowl, “Why don’t you tell her what it means, then?”

“I’m surprised you didn’t,” Thorin contended evenly, “It doesn’t matter for she didn’t know, so how could it–”

“Then telling her would matter as much,” Fili impugned, stepping even closer with a snarl, “Tell her.”

“Nephew,” Thorin’s voice turned dangerous, “You tread the line of treason.”

“I would cross it,” Fili returned without hesitation and seized his uncle’s collar as swiftly.

Your mouth fell open as Thorin accosted the prince in return and they became tangled as each tried to overpower the other. Fili caught his uncle with a blow across the cheekbone and was answered with a strike to the jaw. They locked onto each other as Balin and Dwalin left your side and pulled apart the feuding pair who wriggled desperately against their arms.

“What the fuck is going on?” You burst out before either could spit at the other.

Fili and Thorin exchanged vicious glares, both try to free themselves from restraint. “Enough,” Dwalin commanded, the king and prince struck by the timbre of his voice, “I’ve had it with you, too and I’m sure the lady has, too.”

“Me, as well,” Balin added as he kept a hand around Fili’s arm, “Y/N, let me explain…” He gave a sidelong look to the shifty Durins, “Neither of these donkeys will,” You had never heard him so upset, “Braids, in dwarven culture, have a sacred meaning, each one significant in its own way.”

“Oh,” Your stomach sank to your knees and your head reverberated with realization, “What does, uh, mine mean?”

“If a dwarf seeking the hand of a dam should braid her hair, it is considered a courting braid,” Balin sighed as he sent another reproachful gaze to Thorin, “It means you are promised to the one who wove it.”

“What?” Your voice cracked sharply, “Thorin,” You hissed, “You—you tricked me?”

“If only it were surprising,” Fili uttered darkly and you hammered your walking stick on the stone floor to silence him.

“Shut up!” You bellowed and tried to steady yourself, “The both of you are awful. All you’ve done is terrorize me since I woke up and—I can’t do this anymore. I’m done.”

“Y/N, please–” “Don’t do this.” “You can’t.” The pleas came cluttered from the lips of both Durins and you reached up to release the braid from your hair. A silence overtook the chamber as you unclasped the bracelet from around your wrist, “Here.”

You handed the bracelet over to Fili but as you turned to retreat, you stumbled and Dwalin released Thorin to catch you. Despite your history with the grumpy dwarf, his arm under yours was comforting and he looked you over with concern as he helped you gain your balance.

“S’alright, lass,” He whispered as you looked over your shoulder.

“Just leave me alone,” You seethed at the Durins, “Please.”

You turned back and let Dwalin guide you along, holding back the tears burning behind your eyes. You heard Balin’s sonorous sigh from behind you and the silence you left behind contracted with tension. You were relieved to reach the corridor but your heart stuttered dangerously. You were suddenly overwhelmed with homesickness and your vision blurred with despair.

* * *

“It’ll all turn out, lass,” Dwalin assured as you slumped into a chair, “Don’t you cry.”

He untucked a handkerchief from his tunic and waved it towards you. You took it and wiped away the tears which had gathered in your eyes. As you looked Dwalin over, you could tell the gruff-spirited dwarf was unused to emotion. His brother was better suited to these situations but he was likely busy enough tending to the pig-headed Durins. You sniffed, trying to quell the rising waves, and let your walking stick fall to the floor carelessly.

“I don’t know what to do,” You whined and Dwalin approached anxiously, setting a thick hand on your shoulder stiff, “I never meant to—Oh, it’s all wrong.”

“It’s not your fault, lass, it’s in their blood,” He explained, rescinding his hand to pull up a chair for himself, “Look, you just need to give them time. And yourself.”

“Sure,” You retorted cynically, “And let them stew in their anger until they’re brandishing swords?”

“Eh, lass, they’re a bunch of lovesick fools right now, but they’re still kin,” He leaned in, catching your evasive eyes, “I promise you, they’ll get over it.” He sat back slightly, leaning against the arm of his chair, “And you’ll make a decision.”

“I can’t,” You shook your head frantically, “I just…can’t.”

“You have to,” He gave a half-smile as you wondered why he was being so kind, “And you will. I know you’ve a big heart but one of them has a bigger piece than the other.”

“Ugh,” You hung your head as you tried to clear your mind, “Dwalin,” You peeked up at the dwarf meekly, “How do you know?”

“I’m an ass but I’m not stupid,” He stated evenly, “I know love as well as any.”

“Hmm,” You mulled over his words and rubbed your forehead, “I guess…”

“Trust me,” He touched your other hand gently and smiled fully, “If not, I guess I’ll just have to knock some sense into them.”


	31. Future Mother/Sister-In-Law?

At last, you were no longer dependent on your walking stick. It would have been an exciting feat but you were weighed down by the anxiety which shadowed your every move.. Dwalin had insisted, even after the day of the row, that you would choose one, whether you wanted to or not. As much as you wanted to resist his counsel, you knew him to be right. There was one, but you just couldn’t figure which one.

You paced your chamber floor, no longer crippled by your wounds, and tried not to chew your fingernails. You imagined Thorin and Fili before you but could not think of who you would choose. You shook your head, knowing your plight was hopeless. Even if you could decide, it would only leave the other broken-hearted.  _How could you think to hurt either?_

A knock came at the door and you nearly leapt straight in the air, stilling your anxious feet to stare at the door. It couldn’t possibly be one of them.  _Could your thoughts have summoned them?_  You shook off your paranoia and crossed to the door, your hand trembling as it settled on the handle. Wiping the errant worry from your features, you opened the door and found a Durin standing before you, but not the one you had expected.

“Kili,” You squinted at the shifty-looking dwarf, “What are you doing here?”

“I came to ask after your health,” He lied, “You look…well.”

“Oh, you could do better than that,” You sighed and stood back, “Come in and tell me why you’re really here.”

“I think you know,” He stepped by you as he hooked his thumbs under his belt apprehensively, “Please,” He stopped and pivoted on his heel and you tilted your head at his frezied manner, “You have to choose.”

“Huh?” You nearly laughed at the desperation in his round eyes, “Oh, is that why you’re here?”

“I can’t stand it anymore,” He threw his hands up, “I can’t be around either of them without them moping over you. I mean, Fili, I’ve dealt with before. He’s a fool for most. But my uncle? He’s so pathetic, you can’t even imagine.”

“Kili, I am trying,” You offered weakly, “But I can’t just pull a name out of the air.”

“Maybe you should,” He asserted as he ran his hands over his hair, “It’s going to drive me mad if this goes on any longer.”

“Kili,” A foreign voice resounded from the doorway and you turned to face a dark-haired woman with oddly familiar features, “I’ve been searching for you everywhere,” She whisked in, her skirts sweeping with her stoic strides, “Your uncle–”

“Oh, Mahal no,” Kili uttered fearfully and the woman narrowed her eyes, silencing him.

“Go on,” She ordered against further protest, “I’ve business here as it is.”

“Yes, mother,” Kili grumbled and hung his head as he dragged his feet into the corridor and you blanched at the recognition of the dwarrowdam before you.

“You must be, Y/N,” She mused and you looked back to her with an awkward grimace, “Dwalin has told me so much of you.” She smoothed her skirts as she neared, “You’re the reason I’ve a son and a brother wandering around like stranded ducklings.”

“I, um…” She reminded you of Thorin with her deep blue eyes and dark hair, the same penetrative gaze he had given you upon your first meeting, “I didn’t exactly…mean to.”

“Oh, I know, dear,” She smiled at last and the tension slowly ebbed from the room, “It’s dwarvish nature. If it’s not gold, it’s love.”

“Tell me they aren’t that bad,” You pleaded, a wave of shame crawling up your spine, “I never wanted this. I thought if I told them to leave me alone, they’d stop fighting.”

“They have,” She offered grimly, “But they won’t so much as look at each other. Imagine my surprise when I return to my long-lost home to find my family in ruins over…Well, dear, I know it’s not your fault,” She curtailed her thoughts before they strayed too far, “But you must know, you can’t just run away from this…It’s fate.”

“Fate?” You nearly spat, “Sure, it  _must_  be.”

“Please, come,” She waved you further into the room as she shut the door, “There are things you must know.”

Her foreboding words stirred the contents of your stomach and you tentatively lowered yourself into a chair, a dull pang in your side. Even after weeks of recovery, your wound remained sensitive and your hand was still too weak to grab onto anything. You watched Dis as she neared, her gentle smile fading to a somber visage.

“Y/N,” She sat with a deep breath, “A certain friend of mine told me of all that occurred in my absence. I would have never dared to think of Fili and Thorin accosting each other so, but dwarvish love is unforgiving.”

“Love,” You winced against the word, “Is that truly what it is?”

“That is an answer you must give yourself,” She advised sagely, “But it is there, in your heart. I don’t know any who would face an orc’s blade for anything less.”

“You sound like Dwalin,” You grumbled, “Who knew he was such a dope.”

“Always has been,” She chanced a smile before she continued, “In dwarvish tradition, all are intertwined, each serving as one half of a whole,” Her blue eyes examined you in silence as she pondered her next words, “Each of us are destined to find our other half and they are the ‘One’.”

“The ‘One’?” You picked at the hem of your cuff, “I don’t think so.”

“You may not, but it cannot change the hearts of others,” She crossed a leg over the other beneath her skirts, “The king is yet to be coronated,” Her voice turned stony, “The ceremony is to be next week, followed by a banquet to celebrate the restoration of the Mountain.”

“Yes, I’ve heard,” You ran a finger across your lip as you measured her revelations.

“You will be there,” She commanded, “You must. And you will have made a decision.”

“What? You can’t–”

“I can and I am,” Dis interjected swiftly as she stood, “You must end this charade. They deserve to know,” She took a single step before pausing, “The one you do not choose must have time to heal, my dear. It is cruel to prolong their suffering…and your own.”

Dis set a hand gently on your shoulder, leaning down to lay a gentle kiss on your forehead. You watched her as she stood straight, her lips curved in a warm smile. “Whoever you decide upon, you will be my kin, and I have much to teach you.”

She turned swiftly on her heel and marched to the door, leaving you to dwell in your dilemma. You were reassured by her blessing, the feel of her lips still lingered on your skin, yet you still felt as if there were a dagger trapped in your chest. It would pierce even deeper, you knew, and in the end, it would be withdrawn quite painfully.


	32. Break It To Them Gently

You sighed at your reflection in the mirror. You had miraculously managed to pin your hair back on your own and your complexion was no longer sallow with the palour of blood loss. You reminded yourself of a medieval heroin in your pale lavender gown of radiant silk. Dis had brought you the dress, an off-the-shoulder number which swished faintly with your every move, informing you that should you try to evade your duties, you would face her wrath.

For a moment, you couldn’t help but admire your appearance. You looked better than you ever had, at least, you thought so. You had been spared a corset for the sake of your still tender wounds but the scar across both sides of your hand was gruesome enough to distract from the rest. You smiled at yourself but quickly dissembled as you foresaw little joy to be had in the day ahead.

A knock came at the door and you scowled at the all-too-familiar disturbance. Every time you opened it, you found an even worse visitor than the one before. Dwalin edged the door open at your grumble and you turned to find his lips twitch subtly beneath his thick beard. Despite your irritation and his inherent mulish demeanour, he appeared tempted to smile at your get-up.

“Ah, Y/N,” He greeted in a curiously chipper tone, “You look lovely.”

“Ugh, you too?” You replied weakly, lifting a brow, “Shouldn’t you be…somewhere else?”

“My job is to get you,” He explained, “S’what Dis told me.”

“Dis,” You uttered darkly, “You’d think she were queen of the Mountain.”

“As good as,” Dwalin gave a small chortle, “You know as well as me, it’s not wise to keep her waiting.”

“Don’t I,” You rolled your eyes, lifting your skirts as you neared the door stiffly in your layered gown, “If there were any reasoning with her,” You gripped the satin tighter as you stepped past Dwalin, “I’d not be wearing this mess.”

“Oi, I may be a dwarf, but Dis has got good taste,” He mused as he closed the door, “The color looks just right.”

“Ugh, she told you, didn’t she?” Dwalin set down the corridor with you at his side.

“She did,” He couldn’t help another smile and you had an overwhelming urge to poke him, “Have you made your decision?”

“Maybe,” You looked to the hem of your gown; you had spent the night trying to answer the impossible riddle, “I…I will. By the end of the night.”

You arrived at the throne room, the chamber lined with crowds of dwarves and dwarrowdams, their voices creating a buzz. You passed by several members of the Company as you wove between bodies at the heels of Dwalin until finally you stood near the front of the drove. Dis awaited you, her blue eyes appraising you as you stopped before her and she glanced sidelong at the pair standing next to her.

“Y/N,” Dis sang and your name drew the attention of her sons; Fili visibly unsettled by your presence, “That gown looks wonderful on you.”

“Uh, thank you,” You pushed back a stray lock of hair and tried not to look at the blond-haired prince to her left.

“The ceremony should begin soon,” She took your arm and guided you forward, “Fili, do move over,” She implanted you between her and her eldest son with a knowing look, “There. Perfect.”

You folded one hand over the other as you took your place silently, the tension between you and Fili stifling. You swayed on your feet nervously as you felt him peeking over at you and you struggled to think of a way to begin. The most you could do was lift your chin and look at him with a cringe-worthy smile.

“My mother’s right, you know?” He whispered as he leaned down slightly, “You look wonderful.”

“Thanks, Fili,” You bowed your head graciously, “Um, you look nice, too.”

You were grasping for words but you had to admit that he looked rather handsome in his dark emerald overcoat, his blond hair brushed and braided neatly. Your eyes lingered on him for a moment as he grinned at your compliment. A horn blasted, keeping you from further stunted conversation, and your attention was drawn to the other end of the throne room.

Thorin appeared in the towering doorway in silver brocade, a deep blue cape hung from his shoulders, and his dark waves shining down his back. You were nearly breathless as he began forward, nearing to the sonorous music, his eyes finding yours as he passed by. For a moment, he looked as if he would pause but he strode on with only a flicker of recognition.

As you watched Balin recite in khuzdul, the euphoria of Thorin’s expression overcame you and your chest filled with fire. It was the day he had been waiting for, fighting for, for years and here he was; returned home as the rightful king. To think, you had nearly stopped him from all that by falling on him so obliviously. To have robbed him of that would have been unforgivable.

You glanced over at Fili who watched with similar reverence, his irises alight with pride. Even if they had sparred, Thorin was still his uncle and his family was his greatest treasure. To think this prince had been so kind to you when you had appeared as swiftly as a phantom among the Company. You would have never made it here without him.

Or Thorin. And yet…

“Dear,” Dis interrupted your rapture as Thorin retreated with a silver crown across his brow, the hall filled with the deafening applause of the jubilant Erebor dwarves, “Are you well?”

“I am…” You turned to her, the beating of your heart as loud as the audience, “I think I am. I should be just fine.”

* * *

You sat along the banquet table, your head held high despite the somber task set to you. You would have to break another’s heart this night but it would be in serving your own. Dis swore that, in the end, it would be good for all, yet you were still skeptical. You looked around the crowded room as the band struck up a tune on fiddles, horns, and drums, and watched the bodies flood onto the dance floor.

Your eyes caught Thorin’s once more as he sat across the hall from you with Balin giving endless advice from his shoulder. You swallowed as you held his gaze for only a moment and movement from your side stole your attention away. You looked up to see Fili nearing and you stood from your chair to meet him, the dread rising in your chest.

“Fili,” You kept your voice even as he grinned back at you, “I was just looking for you.”

“Me too,” He replied cheerfully, “Do you dance? I mean, would you dance? With me?”

“Um, I, uh…” You peered around the room again, making sure not to meet Thorin’s eyeline, “Sure.”

Fili offered his hand and you took it, letting him guide you past the tables to the centre of the gallivanting dwarves and their partners. In your world, dancing was strikingly different and so you stood before him clueless. He chuckled at your bewilderment and took your other hand, setting it on his shoulder as he placed his own on the back of your waist. You nearly shivered at the sensation it sent through you and followed the movement of his feet with your own.

“I am so happy you decided to come,” He began as he stared down intently, “And I owe you an apology for what happened with Thorin. I acted rashly,” He ran his tongue across his lip as his grin dissolved, “I was jealous and foolish and I thought—I didn’t think, is the problem and I would have never done it if I had known it would push you away. Y/N,” He took a breath and you saw the confession in his eyes, “Y/N, I–”

“Please, Fili, don’t say it,” You stopped dead on your feet, nearly causing him to stumble, “You can’t say it…because I can’t say it back.”

“Y/N,” The crack in his voice hurt more than Azog’s blade, “You…”

“I’m sorry,” You looked down, fighting back tears as you pulled away from him, “You’ve only ever been kind to me and you’re my dearest friend.” You sniffed as you lifted your head, “But that’s all we’ll ever be. Friends. And I hope, even after all this, that we can go on as such.”

“Friends?” A single droplet trickled down Fil’s cheek and you choked on your own breath, “I…suppose. If it means I still get to see you.”

“I’m so sorry, Fili, I wish–”

“No, no,” He wiped away moisture from his cheek, “I understand. I’m not you’re One…but that means that mine is out there somewhere,” You could tell he was struggling to keep his composure, “I’ll find her someday, just not this one.”

“Fili,” You took his hand and squeezed it remorsefully, “I never wanted to hurt you.”

“I know,” He brought your hand up to kiss it softly, “Now, go.” He stood up straight, releasing you, “I would only see you happy and nothing more.”

With that, Fili bowed and turned on his heel, disappearing into the crowd as you stood trapped in a haze. Taking a deep breath, you stilled your shaking hands and forced back the tears which threatened to rise once more. You looked around cautiously and nearly flinched as you found Thorin’s attention fixed on you.

With measured steps, you set your chin and found your way through the crowd, pausing before the royal table. The wooden stairs creaked as you ascended them to the raised dais and you were relieved to find that Balin had at last left Thorin’s side. You walked unsteadily behind the empty chairs as the king rose to meet you. He watched you near with sparkling eyes and you saw him gulp with uncertainty.

“Thorin,” You stopped before him, turning to look out over the crowd to sight Fili as he left through the far doors. The moment was bittersweet but you had to follow your heart. “Thorin,” You looked back to him but all you could think was his name; all the words you had prepared had slipped away.

“Y/N,” His eyes explored your face, trailing down your neck to the bareness of your shoulders and he reached out to touch the lavender satin of your gown, “You’re beautiful.”

“Thank you, Thorin,” You felt yourself colour, the heat only rising as you knew there was no hope of hiding it, “I, uh…wanted to talk to you.”

“You did?” He smiled as if he knew all you wanted to say, “Well, I have a few things to say myself, if you would hear me?”

You nodded wordlessly with an unbidden smile, the apples of your cheeks rising despite your restraint. He cleared his throat, taking your hands in his as he stilled them from their endless fidgeting. He admired them for a moment, running his thumbs over them, and braced himself for what he was about to say.

“Y/N, I am sorry. For deceiving you, I was a dolt and I even went so far as to undermine my own kin,” His smile faded as regret lined his face, “Worse, I betrayed you. I’ve done nothing to deserve even a sliver of trust from you. From the start, I was uncouth and short-sighted, so much so that I could not see what was right in front of me,” He breathed in as he weighed his words, “You. Y/N, I love you, but if you don’t feel the same, I would un–”

“Oh, Thorin, you  _are_  a donkey,” You exclaimed suddenly, gripping his hands tightly as you swung them back and forth with childlike excitement, “Don’t you think there was a reason I fell on  _you_? It’s like Dis said, it’s fate. It’s painful but it is even more painful to try to escape it.” You gazed up at his wide eyes, luminescent with pearl-like tears, “Thorin, I love you.”

As if he could no longer resist, Thorin dropped your hands and pulled you to him, an arm around your waist and a hand under your chin. You tilted your head as he leaned down to meet your lips, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw as you reached up to caress the soft trim of his beard. You were falling once more, but this time you would land on your feet.


	33. The Epilogue

You smoothed your hands over the alabaster silk of the bodice taut around the tightly-laced corset which constricted your ribs. The scars which foretold of your wounds, jagged across your torso, were irritated by the rigid boning and the matching mark across the back of your hand caught your eyes. Turning it over to examine the blemish in the middle of your palm left by Azog’s sword, you forgot the discomfort of your attire.

“Dear?” Dis’ voice drew you back to the stone chamber; bigger than the one you had languished in during your recovery, this one lavishly decorated with silken canopy and finely woven tapestry, “Are you well?”

“Fine,” You lowered your hand evasively and turned to her, keeping your skirts from brushing against the sooty hearth, “Just…anxious,” You reached up and scratched your neck as you avoided her gaze, “Is all this really necessary?”

You glanced over to the deep purple brocade hanging on the front of your armoire, “A wedding and a coronation in one week? If I had known–”

“If you had known you would still be foolishly in love with my brother,” Dis interjected with a chuckle, “And yes, it is absolutely necessary. The people have returned to Erebor and even our cousins of the Iron Hills shall arrive on the morrow. The Mountain is reclaimed and alive once more.”

“How could I have ever forgotten that Thorin was a king?” You grumbled, “Are you sure it isn’t fashionable for tunic and trousers at banquets?”

“I am quite sure,” She shook her head and crossed her arms, “As misplaced as you are in this Mountain, you are the queen Thorin has chosen and you must act the part. And you’ll learn…eventually.”

Before you could react with outrage, a knock came at the door and you both looked to it expectantly. “Who is it?” Dis nearly sang as she crossed the room, pulling open the door an inch before stopping it staunchly with her foot, “Oh, it’s you.” She looked over her shoulder and waved to you, “Behind the screen, dear.”

Begrudgingly, you obeyed her and figured who the unexpected visitor was, giving an exasperated sigh as you hid behind the painted divider. “Come in,” You heard Dis intone and the footsteps which had become all too familiar in their decisiveness.

Thorin cleared his throat and you couldn’t help but grin from your hiding place, “Mahal’s sake, Dis, I cannot even lay eyes on my own betrothed.”

“Not while she’s in her wedding gown,” Dis reproached, “You’ve all the bad fortune as it is, you needn’t any more.”

“Why thank you, blessed sister,” Thorin huffed, “I can only imagine the torture you’re putting Y/N through.”

“No, you couldn’t,” You chimed with a giggle and the heat of Dis’ wrath could be felt through the thin screen.

“You two,” She muttered as she approached the screen and rounded it, motioning you to turn your back to her, “So, brother, why is it you have chosen to visit at such an inopportune time?”

“Must I a reason to visit my fiancée?” He countered as Dis untied the laces of your gown, carefully pushing it down your shoulders, “I’ve come because Dain has arrived and he wishes to meet our future queen before the festivities. The last he had a chance, she was not in the condition for introductions.”

“Dain,” You could hear the dread in Dis’ voice, “Mahal knows he’s our cousin but the dwarf is bawdy and entirely uncouth.” Thorin stifled a chuckle as you heard him pacing the chamber, “You best gird yourself, Y/N, and Thorin,” You stepped out of the dress as Dis continued, “You better not let him rile the girl.”

“Oh, Dis, you are the unforgiving sort, aren’t you?” Thorin chided as Dis handed you a dressing robe and you wrapped it around yourself, “Ever since he surprised you with that beetle under your pillow as a child…”

“His maturity has grown little since then,” Dis led you out from behind the screen, “And you know I make no exaggeration.”

“Yes, yes,” Thorin’s eyes caught yours and he smiled, holding a hand out for you to take, drawing you to him as he seemed to forget his sister, “Y/N,” He held you against him and laid a gentle kiss upon your forehead, “I pray my sister had not treated you so roughly.”

“Not at all,” You lied as the corset once more pinched your ribs, “There is however something I think we should discuss…” You looked over to Dis who was pretending to dust the mantle above the fireplace, “Alone.”

“Y/N,” Dis turned with a flourish, “You know our customs. This best not be a ploy-”

“You really think I’m a child, don’t you?” You released Thorin and put your hands on your hips sharply, “How am I to learn to be a queen if you treat me so? Now, I would like to speak privately with my future husband about an issue which, despite your suspicions, does not involve undressing.”

You could hear Thorin holding back laughter at your insinuations and even Dis appeared amused by your sudden act of resistance, bowing her head to your command. “Of course,” She swept past you, pausing by the door, “See? You will learn to be queen.”

She pulled open the door and disappeared into the corridor and you looked to Thorin who was visibly impressed by your defiance. You smiled with a tilt of your head before your mind returned to the gravity of your worries. You reached out to take Thorin’s hands in yours, steadying yourself, as you thought of how to broach the sensitive subject.

“Thorin, we need to talk…” You saw his face drain of colour and squeezed his hands reassuringly, “About Fili.”

“Fili,” He frowned; you knew he still felt guilty for how he had treated his own nephew, “Yes, I suppose we should,” He gulped and looked around, “Let’s sit then,” He guided you over to the chairs before the hearth, “I don’t think this shall be a conversation easily resolved.”

You lowered yourself stiffly into the chair, cursing the corset which restricted your comfort, and sighed as you readied your thoughts. “Look, I’m just worried about him. I don’t mean to sound so self-concerned but I feel horrid for breaking his heart, and I know you don’t want to think of that but…He’s been so unhappy and he won’t even look at me.” You rubbed your forehead as you reclined weakly against the back of the chair, “We were best friends back on the road. He was the first to be nice to me and he saved my life…And I hurt him.”

“Y/N, please, you can’t hate yourself for that, we do not control our own hearts, as much as we would like to,” He pulled his chair closer and set his hand on your knee kindly, “He’s hurt but he’s strong. He’ll be alright. He’ll find his One.”

“I know he will,” You placed your hand atop his, “Which is what I wanted to talk about. With all the dwarves returned and those from the Iron Hills to add to those numbers, is there not a chance that his One may just be within our corridors at this very moment?”

“Oh, Mahal, you’ve been spending too much time with Dis.”

“Please, Thorin, we must help him find his One,” You pleaded as you leaned forward, “It’s the only way.”

“And how would we do that?” Thorin wrinkled his brow doubtfully.

“Um, well, I’m not sure,” Your reached up and ran your fingers across your lips thoughtfully, Thorin’s hand squeezing your knee and you looked up to find him watching you intently.

“Don’t tease me,” He kidded and you pulled your hand from your lips, “I…might know of a way. It’s absurd and likely a fool’s game but dwarves are the superstitious type.”

“Oh?” You wondered hopefully, “What is it?”

“Well we need a few things but those will be easy enough to acquire,” His eye sparkled slyly, “It’s an old dwarven rite. Outdated and widely forgotten, but I’ve read of it in some dusty old book,” He removed his hand from your knee and leaned against the arm of his chair as he explained, “We have a cake baked and we place a single button in the batter. Traditionally, this button would belong to the one whom seeks to find their One but seeing as we are to do this without Fili’s knowing, we’ll use a pea.”

“Okay?” You were confused but listened on, hoping to find some sense in Thorin’s ploy.

“But we need something which marks the cake with Fili’s essence…so we take one of his knives and we make sure that the cake is sliced with his own blade, otherwise, it will not work.”

“It does not sound as if it will–”

“Y/N, I know it sounds ridiculous and I’m not saying it will work, but we’ve no other option, have we?” He sighed before he continued, “Now, because the will have been marked with Fili’s touch, the pea will be found in the slice of cake belonging to his One. And as long as that pea is not found by Dain himself, we can at least hope that it distracts Fili from his misery.”

“I don’t know, Thorin. Not to be rude, but you dwarves have some strange beliefs.”

“We do, but as I said, this is an old rite, not used since the time of my great grandfather, but it is how he met my great grandmother,” Thorin shrugged and have a hopeless smile, “I don’t know that it’ll work but what else do we have?”

“I guess,” You bit your lip and once more caught Thorin staring at the small gesture with longing, “We’ll give it a try.”

“Now, we just have to figure out how to get one of Fili’s knives,” Thorin scratched his beard, “You’re good at being sneaky, I think I’ll leave that part to you.”

“As always, I have to do all the grunt work,” You shook your head in remonstrance, “But I can’t trust you to do anything…it’ll be done.”

A silence overtook you as you began to conspire with yourself and Thorin seemed content to watch you squirm. As it was, the two of you were allowed little time to yourself and Dis would undoubtedly be knocking shortly to make sure there was nothing untowards going on. Setting aside thoughts of Fili, you smiled at Thorin, reaching over to take his hand once more. You would enjoy the chance to bask in his presence and worry about his nephew later.

* * *

Your wedding had finally arrived though Dis had been more eager for it than any. Thorin had decided that your nuptials would be the better opportunity to find his nephew his One. You were still skeptical of the whole ‘pea-in-a-cake’ plan but nonetheless, you had stolen one of Fili’s knives with the aid of his brother. Kili was uninformed of the reason why you needed the blade but was all too pilfer it as his brother had become dull company.

You had handed the stolen dagger off to Thorin as you would be spending your morning being strapped into your ivory wedding gown, one which you would not conceal the knife effectively.

Dis brushed out your hair, as soft of silk from the oil she had be applying to it for the last months. Your locks hung loose down your back, your off-the-shoulder gown leaving bear the flesh of your throat and a hint of your chest, amplified by the corset tight around your torso. You had never imagined yourself looking so…royal.

Gripping the skirts of your gown nervously, Dis swatted your hands away from the fragile silk and proceeded to bring a necklace of sapphire around your neck, admiring it in the mirror from behind you. “Thorin forged this himself,” She informed you, “He delivered it just last night.”

“Really?” You reached up and touched the teardrop gem, marveling at the delicate silver links which held onto it, “Should I have–”

“Don’t you worry yourself, dear, I took care of that for you,” She preened, “I know you’ve been overwhelmed so I had a pin crafted for him. He’ll be wearing it, a ruby, you’ll see. I told him you chose it yourself.”

“Dis, you didn’t have to do that.”

“Well, I did,” She ran her fingers through your hair before turning you to face her, “Now, after the vows, you will kneel and Thorin will braid your hair and he will do the same in kind. Remember how I showed you. It is a very specific type of braid and you must do it correctly.”

“I know, I know,” You had been practicing the very weave she spoke of nightly at her insistence, “You’ve taught me well.”

“Well…” She brought her hand up to cradle your cheek as she considered your appearance, “I daresay you look a queen. And I know you will be a wonderful wife to my brother,” To your surprise, she pulled you forward into an embrace, “At the end of this day, you shall be my sister and I am proud at the title.”

“Dis, I–” Your breath caught in your throat, “Me, too.”

“Now,” She pulled away from you and smiled, “Go make my brother a happy man…and you keep him in line. It’s all up to you now.”

* * *

You had made it through the ceremony without misstep. Thorin’s hair was presentable though he had likely done a much better job on yours. You had complimented the ruby pin upon his silver brocade and he had admired the blue sapphire hanging over your neckline. So distracted were you by the nuptials and the hustle and bustle of moving from vows to feast, that when the cake was presented, you nearly exclaimed in recollection.

Thorin led you to the table were the cake was laid out and the hall went silent, thousands of eyes focused on the two of you. “Dwarves and dams of Erebor and the Iron Hills, I thank you for attending today’s celebrations. We are all overjoyed that the Mountain has been reclaimed and may it never be taken from our blood again,” Thorin smiled as he looked around the crowd, his eyes finally landing on you, “My wife and new queen, shall have the honour of cutting the cake this day, and in this rite, she marks rebirth of Erebor and of dwarven glory.”

Thorin reached into his overcoat and brought for the blade you had secreted from his nephew. He handed you the knife and you peeked up at Fili who did not seem to recognize it. You took it and steadied the shaking of your hand, sharing a knowing look with your husband. “I hope this works,” You whispered.

“Just cut the damn cake,” He gritted through a smile and you did as he said, sliding the silver into the spongy dessert.

You began to set out the thin pieces onto small silver plates and servants took them lithely, dispersing them among the guests. You kept your mind on the task of cutting the cake and when at last finished portioning the immaculate dessert, you set aside the knife and Thorin took your hand. “Now we wait,” He mumbled as he bowed his head to the guest who began to chatter and guided you to the royal dais where two slices of cake awaited you.

You sat alongside Thorin but could not even think of eating. You looked across the hall anxiously as other’s indulged and you felt a tugging at your sleeve. “Just relax,” Thorin chided, “And eat your cake.”

“You’re a rather demanding husband,” You squinted at him playfully, “We haven’t even reached our wedding night–”

“Soon enough,” A grin spread across his face and he shifted in his chair, “Which is what you should be worrying about and not my nephew,” He leaned in and his nose brushed across your cheek as his voice lowered to sultry tone, “I do hope your more graceful in bed than on your feet.”

“Hey,” You swatted his shoulder and chuckled bashfully, “It is still early enough for an annulment, dear husband.”

“Sure,” He kissed your cheek before leaning back in his chair, “Let’s not fight before our subjects, my love.”

You scoffed at his joke and dug your fork into your cake, looking out once more as your mind drifted back to the royal nephew. You found him along the table and he stared at his plate dully. You felt the pit in your stomach return and you couldn’t help but frown. You had lost your closest friend in this world and it was all your own fault. You leaned back and hung your head, Thorin touching your hand to draw your attention. He gave you a sympathetic smile and you tried to return the gesture, a sudden exclamation ringing out.

“Ew,” A dam with deep red hair held up a small orb and her friend giggled as she flicked it away, the following comments unheard. Thorin shared a conspiratorial look with you but you still had no clue how a pea would draw Fili to the dam.

“Just wait,” Thorin assured you, noticing your confused grimace, “And stop worrying so much.”

“I just don’t get it,” You dropped your fork, “You dwarves are crazy.”

“Hey, don’t say that so loud in a room full of dwarves,” He chuckled, “In a few minutes, the dancing will begin and you’ll see. Love has its ways. It brought us together, didn’t it?”

“Yes, I suppose,” You thought of the preposterous odds which had seen you falling atop Thorin’s very head, “Though it didn’t exactly start out so well.”

“Don’t start,” He warned, “I already feel bad enough,” He took your hand and ran his thumb across the scar that rippled the skin, “For all the pain I caused you.”

“I was only saying,” You grinned, “Besides, I forgave you, didn’t I?”

“Doesn’t all seem like it,” He grumbled and kissed the scar on your hand, “Not with the way you carry on about it.”

You giggled and a horn blast silenced the hall, the band striking up the first song of the night. Keeping your hand in his, Thorin rose and motioned you to follow. You did so reluctantly and guided you along the table and down the steps to the floor where a throng of eager dancers were gathering and the king turned you to face him.

“Thorin, no,” You cringed, “I can’t dance. Please, all those lessons I’ve been taking. I still can’t put one foot in front of the other.”

“I know, but I didn’t marry you for your grace,” He kidded and you growled at him in return, “Besides, I won’t let you fall. Not again. Just follow my lead.”

Thorin put his arm around you and helped you fall into step, your toes colliding with his as he patiently guided you. You laughed each time you stepped on his feet and he was just as amused by your lack of coordination. A few songs in and you had managed to gain a sense of rhythm and lost yourself in the ribaldry of the crowd.

“Y/N,” Thorin said as the music slowed and you leaned against him breathlessly, “Look.”

He directed your attention across the hall and you were stunned to see Fili with a smile on your face. In your distraction, you had forgotten about the royal nephew. He had not looked anything but forlorn since you had rejected him and so the joy which coloured his features surprised you. The dam with the curly red hair clung to him, sharing the same boisterous laughter, as they danced mocklingly to the downbeat music.

“Did it work?” You looked up at Thorin who beamed over at his nephew, “How?”

“I told you,” He smirked down at you, leaning down to nuzzle his nose into your hair, “Love finds a way,” He pulled you closer so that your head was against his chest, “You showed me that, Y/N.”

You smiled as you let yourself melt into the warmth of Thorin’s body against yours, swaying with him to the music as you fell into a meditative state. All your worries floated away on the melody of the band’s song and you sighed blissfully against your husband. He was right, love always found away, even if it was throwing you off a cliff.


End file.
